


Emerging from the Cocoon

by Dellessa, thepheonixqueen



Series: Metamorphosis [1]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Mech Preg, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery, Violence, humans as transformers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 124,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepheonixqueen/pseuds/thepheonixqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Earth is Cyberformed by the Omega lock and some humans became mechs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Emerging from the Cocoon  
 **Verse:** Emergence  
 **Series:** Prime  
 **Rating:** E  
 **Warnings/Content:** Dubious Consent, Humans-turned-mech, Mech Preg, Non-con, Under-age, Violence  
 **Pairings/Characters:** Multiple  
 **Notes:** Not ours! 

The world seemed to spin, and all he could do was cling to the other two with him. He clung tightly as they huddled together. He tried to form a frame of reference, but his HUD came up with nothing but errors, which did not even seem right to him. Somehow it all felt alien, and...wrong. The memory seemed to be nearly within reach, and yet it evaded any attempt he made to grasp it. A face flitted across his mind, yellow and robotic, and just as soon as he could call up the name it was gone. B....

He opened his mouth and it spit static. He reset his vocalizer and tried again with much the same results, panic welled up and settled inside of his chest. He could hear the screaming still outside of the walls. It had risen and faded for as long as he could remember. It only made the smallest of their number try to struggle away.

The smallest one, bright pink and black, had tangled in cords from something and was unable to get free. There was another mech, this one pale silver and a soft blue, sat slumped against the wall weakly stirring. There were two ...things as well. One was offline on the small balcony and the other was a bizarre combination of femme and organic substance on the ground next to the blue and silver mech.

His inventory of his surroundings was interrupted by a low fuel warning popping up. His frame ached with hunger and need, but there was no fuel in sight. The sound of something large hitting the ground outside caught his attention just before the doors to wherever he was were ripped down and a large creature with sharp dente and huge wings walked in before changing into an imposing looking mech.

“Hmm, it would appear that the cyberforming has not killed off all of the vermin,” the huge mech moved around the little pink and black one, looking her over carefully, “although the results are most… intriguing. I believe I shall bring the three of you with me back to our lord. Eradicons! Seize the two mechs. The femme is mine.”

The pink and black femme hissed as the mech went to grab her, she crouched down, claws lashing out. It was a feeble move as weak as she was. She growled and carried on like a wild thing as the mech changed back into a beast and she was snatched up in a large claw as the monster took to the air. 

The smaller of the mechs trembled, as he watched, moving back away from the Eradicons as they closed a circle around them. He would have sprinted away if he could have ran away, but the low fuel warning pinged more loudly. Insistently. Imminent shutdown warnings flashed, and he quaked in fear not understanding any of it. The Eradicons scooped him up and were carrying him out the door when he got a message saying shut down initialized and then everything went black.

When he awoke he was on a strangely comfortable slab of metal, and was looking up at fairly bright lights. Though his visual receptors were still resetting, he could hear several voices speaking at once.

“-pear fruitful. The transformation is one hundred percent complete, there remains no trace of their previous form.”

“Interesting, Shockwave. Very interesting. It would seem that we have been given a very useful gift. It would be a waste not to use them, would it not?”

He cringed at the words, curling up into a tight ball. A whimper escaped his vocalizer calling their attention to him. It was the last thing he wanted. The one with the large, red optic turned to him, and then focused beyond him to the Metal slab on the other side of him. He could hear the other mech stirring. The sound of his armor brushing against the slab he was draped on. He didn’t dare turn to check, but he knew it was the silver and blue mech they had caught with him.

“My Lord, I think the last one would interest you,” the voice came again. He offlined his optics, only relieved as the footsteps moved past him. They steps moved past him.

“How is this possible?” A gravelly voice rumbled behind him. “He looks so much like...Orion. He remembers nothing, I take it?”

“The trauma from the change has prevented any memory recall from their previous lives.” 

“How...unfortunate, for them. Have this one taken to my quarters. I can think of no better way to celebrate our victory that by beginning our world’s rebirth. As for the others-”

“The little one is mine! She will produce strong eggs!”

“Very well, Predaking. Take her back to your lair. Knock Out, you may keep the last one. We will need more medic before long. Inform the Eradicons to bring back as many as they can find: they may select one for themselves if they wish. We need to bolster our troops after our victory.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Shiny red plating came into his view, “Get up, I know you are faking recharge.” A sharp clawed hand settled on his arm, pulling him up and making him sit up on the slab. Red optics looked him up and down making him squirm in place. “Not bad. I can work with this at least. Such a pretty thing, and all mine to do what I want with.” 

He did not like the smile on the mech’s faceplates at all.

“Now what shall I call you?” The claws reached up, gripping his chin and turning his head from side to side. “Weld, I think. Our lord is going to want you to start training soon. He is right about the medics.” He abruptly let go and Weld reared back, optics going wide. 

“Weld isn’t my name. I had another,” he finally managed. 

“Nothing that happened before matters. You should remember that. Nothing. Your old...owners are dead and gone. You are mine now.” The mech smirked, and something in his chest tightened painfully. He remembered the two dead things from the place they had been taken from. Maybe it was best to forget it all.

“W-will the other two be okay?”

“They will be fine as long as they obey their masters and serve their purposes. Just as you will.”

Weld shifted nervously, he did not like the word ‘Master’. “Masters? What purpose?”

The red mech smirked. “Yes, you will call me Master. As for your purpose, there is no better time to start I suppose.”

The red mech climbed onto the berth and pushed Weld back so he lay on the slab again. As Weld watched with wide optics, his master reached to a panel between his legs and retracted it.

He tried to clamp his legs shut, something in him telling him this was private, but his master spread his legs and reached a clawed servo between them.

“Mmm, it appears I am quite the lucky one. Your old owner never got the chance to try you like this.”

“M-master?”

A snick drew his optics down and his master's panel between his legs had slid back and something was extending from it. “Just relax, pet. This is going to sting a bit.”

His master lined up the extended thing with Weld’s exposed area and suddenly shoved whatever it was inside of him. He screamed as he felt something tear and then the sense of being filled with something far too large made him gasp.

“Mmm, yes. Nice and tight. I love taking a mech’s seals. You had better relax, you will be doing this quite a bit.”

With that his master began to thrust that thing in and out, slowly.

Once the initial sting wore of it did not hurt precisely, The stretching feeling was decidedly odd, and wet. A tingling charge began to build wringing a whimper from his vocalizer, and his insides to clench around the intruder. 

“Oh, frag, yes,” his master moaned above him, his sharp claws digging into seams that Weld would never have imagined were sensitive.

He moaned himself as his master began to thrust faster into him, the thing hitting something deep within that made his frame jerk and clamp down on his master. “Mmmm, perfect. So good.”

His master continued to drive his thing into him, over and over making the tingling charge build and build inside of him. He didn’t know what was going to happen with all that charge but he didn’t care. It felt so good!

His master was venting hard by the time the charge inside him reached it’s peak. Weld screamed as the charge surged through him and his frame spasmed around his master. His master moaned again at the feeling and gave several erratic thrust that were out of time of the tempo he had set. As his master thrusted, he felt his internals flood with a hot fluid that made his frame shudder again and spasm more around his master.

“Not bad. I can tell I am going to enjoy owning you, Weld.”

As his master withdrew from his internals, he paused and drew an odd object out. Before Weld could ask what it was, his master had pulled his thing from Weld and shoved the odd object in its place. “There. We would not want to risk losing those fluids.”

Weld whimpered, as the thing kept him stretched wide and it seemed to lock in place against his plating.

“Stay there,” his master scolded, coming back with some tools Weld could not even name and began working on the plating at the juncture of Weld’s thighs. He removed the casing, and the protective plate that had slid in place over it.

“Master...” Weld whined, not liking the idea of not being able to cover himself at all. it felt wrong, so very wrong. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t need this,” He said, flinging the panel away, and frowning as he replaced the casing and frowned at the sealed area above the one his master had broken. “And you definitely don’t need this,” he said, and placed some kind of cap over it. It magnetized to his plating, locking into place. If felt...odd and made Weld wiggle about and whine. His master seemed pleased though. “You look delicious like that. I could take you again.” 

“Master,” he looked up with unfocused optics as his master made him sit up. Somehow that only made things worse. The object inside of him ground against things he didn’t even have a name for making a whimper leave his vocalizer.

“Too bad we don’t have time. Come on, follow me. You can help me tend to the prisoners we have.”

Prisoners? He did not like the sound of that. “Master, can I stay here?”

The slap made his helm ring for a moment and then his master was right in front of him. “I told you to follow me /slave//, now do it or I will show you what real punishment is!”

Weld flinched back and curled in on himself at his master's anger. “Y-yes, Master.”

“Follow me then, now!”

Weld followed him out the door, the thing inside of him making waking uncomfortable. Every single movement made it move about inside of him making unwanted pleasure shoot through his frame. The walk was long. He had this nagging feeling that his master drew it out, punishing him for his earlier transgression. The room they entered was darker than the rest of the ship, and oddly damp. “Where are we, Master.”

“The detention cells, where the prisoners are held, clearly.” He moved past several that contained mechs until they finally stopped at one that contained a red and white mech.

“Ratchet,” his master purred, a smirk inching onto his face. “I take it you appreciate the accommodations?” 

The mech growled, his aqua optics trailing over to Weld. “Who is this, Knock Out? He isn’t one of the ‘cons on earth.” he asked, completely ignoring his master's question.

“Oh, him? A stray we found on the surface after the cyberforming. It seems to have had an unforeseen benefit.”

Weld looked at the mech in the cell, for some reason he seemed familiar to him. “I am called Weld. You are...Ratchet?”

As soon as he spoken, the aqua-opticked mech had jerked back and then had stared at him as though he could believe his optics. “By the Allspark! What have you done Knock Out!”

“Merely working on My lords orders: train a new medic and work on making more of our kind.”

“Making more-,” the mech cut himself off mid-sentence and had frantically looked back at Weld, giving him a close look over. The sight of the area where his master had removed the plate made the mech grow angrily, “Knock Out! How dare you!”

His master smirked, “How dare I? It was a pleasure, let me assure you.”

The red and white mech growled, throwing himself against the cell, “He is a child, you monster.”

“Clearly not anymore,” His master smiled, and moved closer to him. “The other two...strays are here as well. In case you are wondering.” 

Weld watched the exchange, a sick feeling blooming in his tank. “Was he my old master? I thought you said he was dead?”

Knock Out paused, then threw his helm back and laughed. “No, slave. He is not your old master. Your master used to loan you to him sometimes or have him watch you to make sure you did not run away.”

Weld looked away from the blue opticked mech and looked at his master. “Oh. So was he one of the other’s master then?”

His master gave him a dark look and Weld wisely shut up and hunched in on himself. “Slaves should not ask so many questions. You do as I tell you.”

Weld nodded, too scared to open his mouth again. The look on his master's face did not bode well for him at all.

The red and white mech in the cell quivered with obvious rage, “You leave him alone.”

Knock Out laughed again, “He is mine, I will do what I want with him, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

His hand shot out, grabbing Weld’s arm in a punishing grip. He squeezed tightly enough for the thin armour to dent. “I could take him right here. Would you like to see that? Watch me make him scream?”

Ratchet sputtered, his vocalizer spitting static. “Don’t you dare,” he finally managed to get out. 

“Master?” Weld whimpered as he was pressed against the bars, his hands gripping onto the cool metal automatically. His master's panel ground against his aft making him whimper. 

“Shut up, slave! Any more out of you and I will remove your vocalizer!”

He felt his master's panel retract and the same thing as before rubbed against him. His master pulled his hips back and yanked the object from before out. He immediately shoved his thing inside of Weld and began to thrust as a fast pace, making Weld yelp at the sudden intrusion. 

The mech in the cell began to scream at Weld’s master. “Get off of him! Get your filthy servos off of him!”

Weld’s master laughed, and hiked up one of Weld’s legs before thrusting harder than before. “He is mine now, Ratchet. All mine and I will use him as often as I like, whenever I like.”

Weld tried to keep quiet, but a moan still escaped his vocalizer, his insides clenched and rippled around the thing moving inside of him making it impossible to follow the exchange between his master and Ratchet. It felt good, and somehow that made it worse.

“It’s as if he was made for this,” Knock Out purred, the smirk never leaving his lips as he snapped his hips, making Weld whimper with each hard thrust. “You are missing out Ratchet. He’s so tight, and wet. I’m sure I will have him sparked up in no time. And all of the sparklings he will produce will be raised as good little Decepticons. Ironic, isn’t it?”

“You are a monster!”

“Ah, ah Ratchet. I am not the one who left the poor strays all alone. You and your team did that.”

“What have you done with the others!”

“Lord Megatron has claimed the other mech. As for the scrappy little femme, it seems Predaking has taken a liking to her.”

Weld grunted as his master thrust harder into him before he was once again filled with fluids. His master withdrew and shoved the strange device back into him again before letting him slump to the floor.

Weld curled up, feeling sore all over. The device inside of him rubbed against overly sensitive parts leaving him keening quietly.

“I’m sure you can imagine the treatment the other two strays are receiving. I doubt either of them will be able to walk for days.” Knock Out reached down and made Weld stand up beside him, “As fun as it has been, doctor, I do have other things to attend to.” His smile curled about his faceplates. “As you can imagine.”

“You will pay for this,” Ratchet growled.

“I somehow doubt that. You seem to have forgotten that we have won. If anyone will pay, it is not going to be me. I am sure my lord has plans for you. Maybe he will be kind and reformat you.” 

Weld wondered what reformat meant that it would make the mech in the cell so upset. He decided that it couldn’t be anything good. Hopefully his master would not want to do it to him as a punishment since he apparently was not behaving like he should.

“Come along, slave! It is time to tend to my polish!”

Weld followed behind his master, casting a final look back at the mech in the cell. The aqua opticked mec stared after him sorrowfully before the brig door slid shut.

OoOoOoOo

The little pink and black femme hissed and spat, struggling against his grip from the moment she came online. There was little coherence to his bright optics, but she fought all the same...and it cheered Predaking. He could tell he had chosen well. Out of the three this one had the most fire. She would produce the best offspring. He could tell it already. She was fearless despite her small stature. 

“Let go of me,” she growled, finally coming to herself.

Such spirit! She was the perfect choice for his mate. He let go of her and watched her scramble away from him for a moment. His instincts told him that she would realize that she was his and would assume the proper position. 

Sure enough, she rolled over and got onto her servos and knee joints- assuming the proper mating position and he pounced on her at once. She squirmed beneath him and tried to buck him off, but she had no tail to block him from her panel. He leaned down and lightly bit the back of her neck to keep her in her place while he moved one clawed servo back to get rid of the panel that prevented him from claiming his mate properly.

It was only when she cried out that he realized he had used too much force and accidentally removed the panel itself instead of just retracting it. Well, his mate had no need of such a thing anyway. She would be better remaining open to his desires like this.

He rumbled as he moved her legs further apart to make room for his size. Once he had maneuvered her into the position he desired, he allowed his spike to slip free from it’s sheath. He rumbled as it pressurized to full length and girth, he could feel it swelling as his mate squirmed beneath him. He reached down with one claw to check and make sure that his mate was prepared to take him since she was much much smaller than him.

To his surprised shock, he found a seal blocking his access to his mate’s valve. He rumbled with pleasure that she would belong to only him.

OoOoOoOo

She writhed beneath the larger mech, unsure of what was happening. She had started to get onto her peds but the mech had lept on her as soon as she was on her servos and knee joints. He had then ripped her panel off in one wrenching motion that had filled her frame with pain.

She heard something make a slithering sound behind her, and then a claw reached down to where her panel had been ripped off and probed the area. It was then removed and something large and blunt prodded the same area.

She tried to move away but before she could try and move the large thing shoved itself inside her, making her feel as though she was being torn in two by the sheer size of the thing inside her. It just seemed to get bigger as more and more was shoved inside her.

She screamed, her claws digging rivets into the floor. Pain ripped through her frame and she begged it to stop, but he only pushed more inside of her. It seemed like an eternity before it finally stopped, their housing clanging together.

She panted underneath him, ex-venting raggedly, and finally tried to speak, to rail against him, but her vocalizer only spat static. Her valve lining tried to clench around the invader, but it was stretched to it limits and fluttered instead as it reset itself over and over trying to compensate to the way it was overstretched.

The frame above her rumbled and purred above her, holding still for what seemed like an eternity until finally he moved, removing the thing inside of her nearly completely, before pressing back inside over and over, raking against her insides. It burned, hurt, but the pain slowly bled into pleasure. He seemed to hit one spot inside of her over and over again until her insides spasmed and clamped down hard.

It felt surprisingly good to her and seemed to feel good to the mech above her as he thrust again and again rumbling with arousal. She felt something shift inside her and the thing that the mech was thrusting with felt like it was getting bigger and bigger. Finally the mech roared and thrust deeper into her frame before she felt a warm fluid fill her inside. The mech collapsed onto her and vented hard for a few moments.

Thinking he was done, she tried to slip out from under him but squeaked when she tried to pull off of the mech’s thing.

She was stuck! His thing had swollen bigger and was now stuck within her.

She wiggled, a whine leaving her vocalizer. It only seemed to make the mech above her purr. He didn’t shift off of her, if anything he seemed amused. A rumbling laughed left his vocalizer.

“Such an eager little thing,” he rumbled above her, as he finally shifted and repositioned himself. She thought he was moving off of her for a single moment, and then he rolled his hips, making her squeal loudly. She would have scrambled away, but she was still stuck fast. The swollen thing bumped against the overstretched rim of her valve, rubbing against the nodes along the edge.

She did not know what to do, her options were limited with her being stuck on his thing like this. The mech rumbled above her, “You feel so good around my spike, little one. We shall do this more often than I had planned. You are exquisite, my little claws. Yes, that shall be your name. My Littleclaws.”

Littleclaws? Littleclaws?! The name made her seem weak and silly. She was strong and fierce! She tried to throw her helm back and bite at the mech but she could not reach him. She growled lowly to herself but the mech above rumbled in answer. “Ready for more so soon? Very well, my knot has shifted enough I believe.”

If the ‘spike’ in her had felt big before, it now felt even bigger but it also dragged along every sensor node inside her making her squeal in pleasure with each thrust. She whimpered, rolling her hips back to meet each thrust without a thought. Pleasure built, coursing through her circuits until an overload was surging through her. He never stopped thrusting taking her through the overload and pushing her into another one nearly immediately. She screamed beneath him, loud and high. Her claws dug into the ground again making long rivets beneath her.

Fluid filled her insides again, over flowing past the spike moving inside of her and dripping down onto the floor below them.

The mech above her rumbled at the fluids slipping and thrust a few more times before she felt an odd feeling, something thicker than the fluid from before was being released into her. As time passed the spike was slid out of her but the feeling of being spread remained and no fluid dripped out of her now.

“Good. The plug should keep my fluids within you. You will make fine strong eggs for us.”

Plug? Eggs? What?

The mech remained over her but the spike was no longer in her at least. She began to shift forward but was stopped by another nip at her neck. It did not hurt, not exactly but the threat was there. However, the mech changed into a different form. This form had large fangs and huge wings. Before she could try and flee in fear, the mech curled around her and drew her close to him with his fangs- but did so gently. To her surprise, he began to lick along her plating, using his fangs to get her seams and wires. He set a large servo on top of her to hold her in place.

After a while she drifted into recharge, pulled close to the huge mech and feeling safe somehow with him curled around her, a giant wing covering her above.

OoOoOoOo

The Eradicons were not gentle when they dragged him down the hallway. He struggled feebly, but even after the fuel he was given in the medbay he felt odd and weak. They laughed, and joked around him, but he tuned them out, instead he tried to figure out where they were taking him. It seemed like they walked forever, before they finally came to a doorway and stopped.

“Come on, Steve, we don’t have all cycle. Lord Megatron said to take him here straight away,” one said as he was pushed inside the room and nearly dragged deeper inside, and finally into a second room. This one contained a massive slab like in the medbay, but it was entirely different, and covered in soft looking things. He didn’t want to go anywhere near it, but he was pushed that way anyway, the Eradicons easily overpowering him. 

“Pretty creepy how much he looks like Orion,” one said, talking above his helm as if he was not present at all. “Here grab the chains, I don’t want to hold him down all fracking night.”

One of the mechs moved to a storage chest and returned with a frightening set of items. The Eradicon moved back to the side of the berth and used the set of manacles he held to chain one of his wrists to the metal slab. While the second Eradicon held him down, the Eradicon did the same with his other wrist. Next he took the long bar he had held and attached it to first one leg and then the other. He found he could no longer close his legs, the bar keeping his legs spread above the knee joint.

The two who had chained him to the slab then used the second set of manacles to chain his peds to the slab as well. Once they were finished they laughed about it a bit more before leaving him there. He was left alone for a long time, in the echoing room until the door slid open and the large mech from before, the one that the Eradicons had called Lord Megatron walked in and shut the door behind him.

He tensed up as he watched the mech move closer, his reaction was to curl into a ball to protect himself, but he was held tight by the chains. The mech’s red optics seemed to bore right through him, making his vents come heavy with fear that seemed to radiate through him. 

The mech’s optics narrowed, looking him up and down appraisingly. Hungrily. “Orion. I have waited a long time for you to come back to me. This is where you belong.” 

He wiggled against the chains, he wasn’t this Orion… was he? He didn’t think he was, and he didn’t like the way the mech looked down at him, as if he wanted to devour him with those too-sharp teeth. 

“You should never have left me, look what you have done. The war you created between us. But that is going to change, and you will learn your proper place.” 

The mech reached out and cupped his chin forcing him to look directly at the fearsome mech. “Under me.”

He did not know why but that made him more afraid.

The large mech moved onto the slab and knelt next to him. The mech looked him over slowly, making him shift nervously. “One sol you will need no chains to remain at my side, Orion. You will never leave me again.”

He shrank away as much as he could when the mech reached out to him. The mech reached between his spread legs and slid open a panel there. Then with causal force, bent the panel slightly but enough to keep it from sliding shut again. “There. Now you will always be open to me. As you always should have. If only you had been more submissive like this in the old sols. I would have taken you on the floor of the Ring right after each victory to let everyone see the prize I had won.”

He did not understand any of what the mech was going on about, but the large mech’s tone was frightening, but less so than the way he began to touch the other mech’s body. Sharp claws wiggled in between the seams at first one hip, and then the other. Plucking at wires.

“But no, you had to fight me. To defy me.” The large mech glowered down at him. “You left me, and I find that very hard to forgive, Orion.” The claws worked their way into a particularly sensitive seam in his side.

A whine escaped his vocalizer even as he tried to move away from the unwanted touch. He pulled at the chains, gasping when the mech leaned into him and caught his lips. Sharp denta scraped against his lip-plates, drawing energon as they nipped and bit. It hurt, leaving him too stunned to turn his head away or shut his mouth to the glossa that plunged in and tangled with his own.

“So timid now, Orion? You act as though you had never-” The mech stopped himself mid-sentence, an odd look coming over his faceplates. The servo returned to the damaged panel and probed the area with a sharp finger. He felt something that hurt when the mech poked at it and tried again to draw away from it.

The mech gave a frightening smile, “Oh, Orion! You kept yourself pure for me after all these vorns! You honor me, my little one.”

The mech loomed above him straddling his frame and then settling between his spread legs. “Do not worry, I will make this good for you Orion. Since you give me such a lovely gift.”

To his shock, he felt the mech licking his thighs and moved up his legs until he reached the juncture of his legs and put his glossa into the area that he had poked at before with his fingers. It felt so odd! It didn’t hurt exactly, but it made him want to press his legs together and scoot away from the mech. Instead clawed hands pressed him down and the glossa grew more insistent, lapping against the place the claws had pressed into. The glossa slid along the edge of the opening, finally settling one spot that made the bot below whimper, and twitch.

His insides clenched past the barrier, tightened as the glossa hit the same spot over and over. His insides clenched tightly, spasming. It ripped through him, pushing a scream from his glossa, and left him lying limply against the slab. He laid there, confused at what had happened. His vision unfocused as the large mech moved up his chassis, settling himself between the smaller mech’s parted legs. 

He would have tried to wiggle away, but all that came out of his vocalizer was a strangled moan, and then a louder one as he felt something blunt pressing against the juncture of his thighs.

Before he could ask the mech to stop, the blunt object shoved forward and drove inside of him. It hurt so much as it tore through the barrier that had been there. Before he had time to even think, the mech was thrusting into him with that thing. The mech was grunting as he thrust and stared at him in a fixated manner.

“You are mine now, Orion! Yes! All mine! I will never let you go!”

He felt something in him tremble with fear at that statement, he did not want to stay like this forever. This felt wrong!

The more the mech thrust however, the pain faded away and it began to cause pleasure to fill his frame, making him moan softly. His insides fluttered, and rippled and somehow that made the pleasure increase as ridges rubbed against them. Charge began to crackle across their plating. He didn’t understand it, but it felt so good so he concentrated on that instead of anything else that was happening to him. It was easy to lose himself to it, pushing his hips up to meet each thrust, he cried out when the blunt head hit something inside of him. It hurt, but it also felt amazing. If his legs had been free he would have wrapped them around the other mech’s hips pulling him close, and drawing the pleasure out.

He panted, bucking up as much as he could, and cried out. He did not want this, but he was dragged along with the pleasure, and senseless from it.

“Orion!” the mech cried out above him, biting into his neck cording.

He shuddered as the mech thrust against him harder and harder until at last he felt hot fluids fill him inside. The mech above him thrust a few more times, then collapsed on top of him. He shifted under the weight of the heavier mech but he could not get the mech off of him. With how he was chained to the slab, he could not try and slid out either.

He sighed sadly. He did not know how he had come to be trapped like this but he somehow knew that his name was not ‘Orion’ and that he was not supposed to be here. He looked at the mech who was slumped on top of him and gave a fervent hope that whoever this Orion was, they never got caught by this mech.

He could feel the mech above him booting up. It still felt an eternity before he finally stirred, and moved. The large mech looked down at him, red optics glittering brightly. He tried to shrink away, but it worked as well now as it did before. “You are perfect, my perfect copy, and you will not be leaving me. I won’t allow it.” 

The small mech latched onto that word, and at least in his own processor that was who he was, Copy. It felt more correct than Orion. He knew he was not that bot. He didn’t want to be that bot any more than he wanted the large mech to touch him.

“Maybe I will keep you right here, chained to my berth,” the large mech purred at the thought. “It is where you belong, after all.” 

He shivered at the thought and the larger mech seemed not to notice it at all. “Yes, keep you here warming my berth just like /he// was supposed to. You are never going to leave me.”

To his dismay, the mech moved on top of him again and began to thrust the thing inside of him again. It no longer hurt but it was not something he really wanted either. He wanted to get away from here. Even going back to the place that he had before with the other two would be better than this. He hoped the others were doing better than he was.

He hoped they weren’t having to do this. It did not seem right to him for some reason. The larger mech kept thrusting though and eventually his frame began to respond to the mechs actions. Finally the mech roared again and more hot fluid filled his internals. The mech then rolled off of him and onto the metal slab next to him.

“Never going to let you get away this time, Orion.”

Copy bit back a whimper, he could feel the fluids dripping out of him and forming a growing puddle underneath him, it was horrible feeling. The big mech threw one arm over him, curling around him possessively, and holding him in place. He opened his mouth to talk, but in truth he was far too scared to speak. He didn’t know what he could even say. He couldn’t imagine this mech would take any protest he would make very well.

He offlined his optics, cycling away the coolant that tried to pool in them. A sob bubbled up, and threatened to escape his vocalizer. His engine sputtered and despite himself, a whimper finally escaped his throat.

When he saw no sign of the other mech noticing he let himself softly sob. Coolant leaked from his optics and his engine hitched unevenly as he shook with his tears. He wanted to get away from this mech who was obviously not right in the processor. Even he could tell that much! 

Eventually, his coolant stopped leaking and his venting evened out as he tired out his already exhausted frame. His frame cried out for recharge and finally he sank into a deep recharge.

OoOoOoOo

Ratchet glared when the door opened. As usual Knock Out strutted in while poor Rafael was made to carry in the mech’s tools as well as Ratchet’s cube of fuel.The poor child, now mech was obviously suffering at the servos of the mad medic. Ratchet could tell that he was always low on fuel and often had scuff marks on his frame.

That was not including the forced interfaces in front of Ratchet’s cell.

Big blue optics looked up, meeting Ratchet’s own for a moment before looking away and flinching as Knock Out snapped for him to hurry. “I’m sorry, Master. I’m just...getting a..a low fuel warning again.” He wobbled on his peds, looking as though he was going to fall to the floor right in front of the cell.

“For Primus sake, what are you doing to him?” Ratchet snapped. “A mech can’t survive on low rations like that.” 

Knock Out gave him a withering look. “How I treat my slave is none of your business.” He glared, and looked down at Ratchet’s ration and smiled. “I suppose he can have part of your ration if you are so concerned about his functioning.” 

“I can’t take his fuel,” Rafael protested, then flinched at the glare he received. It broke Ratchet’s spark.

“Go on, drink. You need it more than I do, little one.”

Rafael gave him a hesitant look before cautiously taking the cube and putting it to his mouth. In a feat that Ratchet did not think he could duplicate if their roles were reversed, Rafael took a single long sip of the energon in the cube.

“T-there,” he said, his arm still shaky as he offered the cube to Ratchet. The red and white mech took a step away, not taking the offered cube.

“I think you need more than that, you’re obviously running on fumes, kid.” 

Rafael’s optics widened, “I really couldn’t.” 

“Just drink it,” Knock Out snarled, “I’m tired of listening to the both of you.”

Rafael flinched at the mech’s snarl and nearly dropped the ration onto the floor. After another quick look at Ratchet as though asking if he was sure, he lifted the cube and drank again. This time it was no polite sip. This time the hunger that must be gnawing on the poor newspark was clear in the way he chugged the energon down.

He was paying more attention than Ratchet had thought though, for when he stopped there was roughly half a cube of energon still there. He meekly handed the cube through the bars of the cell to Ratchet.

Seizing his chance, Ratchet lightly touched Rafael’s servo but was not ready for the way the boy flinched away from him. He should have expected it though. He doubted that Knock Out was the kindest to care for a new spark let alone one he openly called his slave and forced to interface each sol before Ratchet’s cell.

Rafael trembled, moving away from him. His optics shifted down to the floor. His body language was of one who was broken. This more than anything made Ratchet want to reach through the bars and deactivate Knock Out. It made his want to make the other medic suffer, but he knew that none of that would help Rafael. 

Knock Out watched him, a smile creeping onto his faceplates as he reached over, and grabbed a hold of the newspark, jerking him close and causing a loud gasp to leave the youngling’s vocalizer. “Come here,” he crooned.

Rafael didn’t look at Knock Out, instead staring the floor, “Y-yes, Master.”

The poor mech sounded so small and broken it hurt Ratchet’s spark to hear it. He glared at Knock Out who only smirked at Ratchet. “I think we will do something different this sol. I am tired of doing all the work, slave. On your knees!”

Ratchet glared as Rafael was forced to his knee joints and Knock Out’s panel retracted. “Now Slave! Suck my spike!”

With little warning and allowing no preparation on Rafael’s part, Knock Out shoved his spike into Rafael’s mouth. Knock Out held Rafael’s helm still and thrust into it lazily. “See how it’s done? Now suck! And don’t stop until I overload.”

Rafael whimpered and struggled not to choke on the spike. It was painful to watch. Even worse than watching the poor mechling be fragged against the cell. It seemed to cause more stress at least, but for all of that Rafael did not struggle.

It was over soon enough, several hard thrusts and Knockout held Rafael’s helm tightly, and smirked, “Well, now he doesn’t have to worry about an empty tank any longer.” 

Ratchet looked away in disgust.

The mech was a monster and the very thought of poor Rafael being stuck with him like this was horrifying to say the least. He looked over again when he heard Rafael whimper and saw Knock Out yank the smaller mech up by the small chevron on his helm.

Rafael was dragged from the brig by Knock Out, leaving Ratchet alone in his cell. He had to get out of here and free the former children. They could not stay in this environment for much longer without becoming at risk for sparking.

He could only pray to Primus and the Allspark that that would not be an issue they had to deal with.

He vented softly, pacing the small cell as he tried to come up with a plan of escape. It was going to be hard. He had not seen the other two children at all and worried about their safety as much as Rafael’s. They were both strong, but even strong mechs broke under circumstances such as these.

He wondered for a moment how things could have gone so wrong, how they could have lost Optimus. His spark still mourned their leader.

With the fall of Optimus, the war had ended. Now all that remained for the remnants of the Autobots was simply surviving. He would do that, and with the children. He had to.

OoOoOoOo

It had all gone so wrong. He had had a solid plan but everything had simply gone so wrong. Optimus had been attacked by Predaking and crashed. When he and the others had bridged to help him, it had been far too late to their Prime. Most of the others had fallen as well.

Bumblebee.

Arcee.

Bulkhead.

Optimus.

Now he was locked in this cell in the Decepticon brig with one of the only survivors, Wheeljack. Ultra Magnus offlined his optics. Despite his emotionless exterior he was falling apart inside. There was no fixing this. There was no hope. No back-up. Had he known the endgame he wondered, for a moment, if he would have come to Optimus’ rallying call. He knew he would have though. He had too much respect for their leader not to. He wondered, for a moment, about Smokescreen. He went missing after all was said and done. He hoped the young mech had managed to get away, but even if he did what was there for him to do. He was only one mech. 

His musing was interrupted by the sound of loud pedsteps approaching. As he looked up, he saw the mech he least wanted to see at the moment. Megatron strode into the cellblock and came to stop in front of their cell.

Wheeljack glared at the mech with his one working optic and Ultra Magnus had to applaud his tenacity. “What do you want, Deceptitrash?”

“Such courage when we are separated by strong bars. A pity you had so little when we actually fought. Perhaps then your Wrecker comrades would still function.”

A growl escaped Wheeljack’s vocalizer, and he threw himself at the cell bars. “You monster.” 

Megatron threw his head back laughing, “Perhaps I will allow Shockwave to have you, I’m sure he could reformat you into something more...useful.” His lips curled up into a toothy smile.

“I’ll kill you,” Wheeljack screeched, clearly out of his processor. Ultra Magnus could not blame him, and he didn’t even blame Wheeljack for his deathwish. He felt much the same, but it was not even worth the effort. Ultra Magnus looked away. He couldn't even stand the sight of Megatron.

“So you say. Your Prime said that as well, and now I am the only one still here.”

Ultra clenched his dente at the insult to Optimus. He had fought valiantly until the very end. His memory should not be slandered like this.

“I do have to thank you Autobots though. Thanks to your arrival on this planet, you gave us a perfect world to cyberform and those natives that survived their own....transformation will serve my cause well.”

Survived? Some of the humans? How was that possible?

“What do you mean, Megaton!?”

“While most of the humans are dead, some were transformed into cybertronian-like frames.They will serve us well in the rebuilding.”

The idea of former humans being turned into forced slaves made his tank recoil. His optics widened as the shock of it settled in. “You are lying. You have to be lying. The humans are dead.” 

Megatron threw his head back and laughed loudly, “I can assure you, even your pets make fine slaves. I have one chained to my berth now.” A smirk inched onto his faceplates. “I only wish I could make Optimus see such a sight. It is a pity he did not make it past our last battle.”

Ultra Magnus looked away. he would have purged his tanks had they not already been nearly empty.

Wheeljack growled, “How dare you! They are sparklings!”

Megatron sneered, “If they were, they are not now. You should be honored, Wrecker. Your little pet was deemed worthy of serving Predaking. If it she survives his bouts of rage that is.”

Wheeljack jerked back and away from Megatron at that. “That-That beast! You let that beast take Miko!”  
“Predaking was most insistent, and he deserved a reward for bringing me all three of your little pets. Letting him have a weak little femme seemed a small matter.”

Wheeljack stumbled back, nearly falling onto the bench at the back of the cell. She had to be terrified, he knew it. It made his spark whirl faster. She---for once he was glad that Bulkhead had not made it through. This would have broken him. He loved that girl like she was his own sparkling. “Small matter...frag I hope the pit takes your miserable hide.” His optics narrowed. He knew what had become of Miko, but buckethead had said two. Ultra Magnus could almost see the wheels spinning in Jack’s helm.

“What of the other two. You have Jack and Raf then?”

Megatron gave him a wolfish smile, “As I said, one is chained up in my own quarters, and Knock Out has the other.” 

The idea of either of the two boys forced to serve Megatron was deeply disturbing and disgusting. Of the two however, Ultra knew he feared more for the younger boy. Rafael had been much like Ratchet in personality only unlike the medic did not have a surly front to try and hide how much he cared.

Megatron laughed, “The look on your faceplates is even better than the look your medic made when I told him the happy news. After all, Knock Out has had little practice repairing sparklings.”

Wait- their medic? Ratchet lived?! This was good news amongst all the bad. “Ratchet would never help you!”

“Ah, while that is true. He will help your former pets. I imagine that the smaller mech will have trouble working for such a much bigger mech as Knock Out.”

Ultra Magnus frowned, and wondered where they were keeping the medic. “Unfortunately, you are right. He would help them. We would all help them,” it came out sullenly. He wished he could reach through the bars and rip that smirk from Megatron’s faceplates. It was times like these that he wondered what Orion could have ever seen in this monster, and he grieved for his oldest friend all over again. His spark felt unbearably heavy in his chest.

The door to their wing in the brig opened and Knock Out walked in followed by.....

Primus!

There behind Knock Out was a tiny mech, no bigger than a small minibot with tiny winglets that made him look like a Praxian, almost. There was a small chevron set above pale blue optics that rarely looked up from the floor and the mech- mechling, Ultra had lived long enough to have seen plenty of younglings and this was a mechling if he ever saw one.

This had to be one of the children! But was it Rafael or Jack?

His question was answered when Knock Out turned to the mechling, “Hurry up, Slave!”

“Sorry, Master.”

Primus. That voice, so soft and fearful! It was still /his// voice.

Bumblebee would weep right now, to see his best friend made into a ‘Con slave.

The mechling was carrying two cubes, clearly their rations for the day. He brought the first to Ultra Magnus, and barely looked up even as he handed the larger mech the cube. His hands trembled as he let go of it, swaying on his peds.

Megatron’s optics narrowed, following the slaves movements. “Your slave is in poor condition. Is he not serving you properly?” 

Rafael stiffened at the large mech’s words.

“Not yet, Lord Megatron, but you know these things take time. Even on Cybertron some mechs would take vorns before they were qualified .” His red optics fell on Rafael. “I am sure we will have progress in time.”

“You had better Knock Out. That is the reason I gave you a slave, after all. To train me a new generation of medics. The new Cybertronians who will be only Decepticon. It shall be glorious.”

“Indeed it shall, Lord Megatron. I assure you I am most....enthusiastic in my attempts to train my slave.”

Ultra Magnus watched the mechling shift nervously as he was discussed as though he wasn’t even there. Poor mechling. They had to get him away from this. If they could break out, they could take the children and try to find a place to hide. Anything was better than letting them be ‘Con slaves! Especially poor Miko! Slave to a beast!

He wondered if she would live through her encounter with that monster. The girl was plucky, but the best was monstrously huge. He could not imagine that she was a very big cybertronian. Rafael was certainly not. They had to find a way to get to Ratchet and get the kids out of here as soon as they could. He glanced over at Wheeljack who was silently fuming, staring daggers at the Cons. It would have to be soon before Wheeljack did something stupid and got himself killed.

Rafael finally moved across the room, cautious as a glitchmouse as he offered Wheeljack his ration of energon. The white mech reached out, touching Rafael’s hand. It was impossible to miss how the mechling recoiled and stumbled away, optics wide and full of distress.

Raf tripped and fell with an ‘ufff!’ as he fell at Knock Out’s peds. His faceplates became a mask of fearfulness.

“You idiot! How dare you be so clumsy in front of Lord Megatron!”

Knock Out began to kick at the small mechling who curled into a ball to protect himself until Knock Out got control of himself.

“Get up! You are useless! You are on half rations for the next deca-cycle!”

Rafael clicked sadly, much like how a sparkling would sound and it tore at Ultra Magnus and Wheeljack’s spark to see him so low.

Rafael clicked again, hugging himself tightly. “I’m sorry master,” he whimpered when he could get his vocalizer working again.

“You should be,” Knock Out snapped, his hand reaching out to grab the mechlings arm and wrench it around making the little mech scream in pain and shock.

Ultra Magnus was up and throwing himself against the bars before he even knew what he was about. They creaked eerily, and gave minutely. 

The sound seemed to snap Knockout of the rage he was still in. He turned, optics wide as he watched the prisoner. 

Ultra Magnus staggered back slightly from where he had slammed into the bar of his cell. He glared at Knock Out who still had the mechlings arm in his grasp. Megatron moved between the cell and Knock Out. “Knock Out, have our prisoner’s rations cut in half. If they still have this much energy then they are being fed too much.”

“Of course, Lord Megatron. I will inform the supply mechs on my way back to the med bay. If you will excuse me, Lord Megatron, I have a slave to discipline.”

As Ultra Magnus watched Knock Out let go of the arm he had been twisting and instead grabbed the mechling by the back of the neck and all but dragged the smaller mech away. Megatron remained for a long moment and stared at them. “Enjoy your time here, Autobots. I will think of an appropriate end for the two of you. The last of the Autobots.”

Ultra Magnus watched the tyrant stride away on the heels of those ominous words. He had never felt so completely helpless in his long existence.

“We need to get out of here,” Wheeljack said as soon as the room was empty. He paced his cell looking more agitated by the moment. “Slag it, I need to blow something up. I need to blow them up.” He ranted, but Ultra magnus tuned it out, and set down heavily on the metal slab in his cell.

He didn’t know how to fix this or even how to start. “If you have a plan I’m all audials,” he finally said quietly.

“We can’t just sit here! Who knows what the ‘Cons are doing to those poor kids! We have to get them out of here!”

“I know Wheeljack. Until you can figure out how to get us out of here so we can help them, then sitting here is all we can do.”

“So you are going to sit on your aft and do nothing. What a surprise.”

“I am doing something. Those two gave us a lot of information that they may not have wanted us to know.”

“Like what?”

“We now know that the kids and Ratchet are alive. The kids are Cybertronian now. Knock Out has Raf, Miko is apparently with Predaking which leaves poor Jack with Megatron. They won’t hurt the kids too badly. They said they want them as slaves after all and unhealthy or injured mechs can’t work.”

Wheeljack pulled a face, “Well, yeah, I guess. I’m not a medic though and even I can tell Rafael isn’t healthy. He doesn’t even look old enough to be in his adult upgrade.” Wheeljack shook his helm looking ill. “I can’t imagine the other two are doing any better. And...Miko...”

“I know,” Ultra Magnus stood, pacing across the small space.

“I can’t just leave Miko to that---that monster. She’s all I have left of Bulk.”

“I know,” Ultra Magnus said, pushing up against the bars. It really wouldn’t take too much until they gave way. He looked at them, and back to Wheeljack. “Did they clean out your subspace?”

“They did of the obvious stuff. Some stuff they left behind, like polishing cloths and the like. Stuff that is not a threat.”

“Why don’t we see how much trouble we can make with stuff that is not a threat. Between the two of us, we should be able to break out of here and save the kids.”

“I like the way you are thinking Magnus! We may have stuff that is ‘no threat’’ but we will show them. Let’s see what we have to work with. Empty your subspace.”

OoOoOoOo

Smokescreen moved about the ruins of the base under the cover of night. It was the only time he came out of the caves he had found miles from the base. There were mecha-miles of tunnels down below, and the cyberformed earth seemed to dampen any signal he gave off. 

He kept hoping to find out what had happened to the others; what happened to the children. He unfortunately knew what had become of Agent Fowler as well as Jack’s mother. He had scooped out a hole for each of them and buried them in the human fashion. He had seen no sign of the children’s remains though.

He had gone through the entire base and found no sign of them. Just more mangled human frames that he had buried next to Agent Fowler and Nurse Darby. He had found some equipment in the ruins of their base, but he was no Ratchet.

He had moved what he could down into the tunnel area he was slowly making it habitable for himself. It was far harder to be on his own this time than it had been on the escape pod he had arrived in.

Still, he kept monitoring for any sign of his team or other Autobots. But there was nothing, not a blip on the radar. It scared him more than he could admit. He missed them, he was lonely, but most of the time he was so busy trying to survive that he did not notice, and ignored the steady ache in his spark.

Maybe they were all deactivated, the not knowing made it that much harder to bear.

Still, he had to act as though they were not. He had to believe that. He would be strong and find a way to free the others and find the children. He was returning with more supplies when he heard the receiver crackle hopefully.

“-bot base, this is the Axiom. Repeat, this is the Axiom. Autobot base do you copy?”

It couldn’t be! But it was! Smokescreen dropped the supplies and rushed to the receiver. “Axiom this is Autobot base! Warning! Decepticons on Planet! Extreme caution needed! We need help!”

“Calm down, soldier. Who is this?”

Wait, it kinda sounded like.....

“Prowl? Is that you? It’s me! Smokescreen!”

There was a long pause. “Smokescreen, what in the pit are you doing down there? You are supposed to be with Alpha Trion.” 

“Ah...yeah. Can we talk about this later. I’m serious. We need help. I need help. I---I think I’m the only one left down here. There---Megatron killed Optimus, and maybe everyone else. I can’t find anyone else, Prowl.” He cut off his vocalizer before the whimper that threatened to leave his vocalizer managed to get out. “I’m scared.“

“Just stay tight. We’ll come and get you,” Prowl answered, his confidence calming his brother. Prowl always knew how to fix things. He could fix this too. If Smokescream had faith in anything it was that.

Prowl would know what to do. Prowl always knew how to fix things, like when he was still a youngling and had fallen. Prowl was the one who had held his servo and got him to the medical centre. Even when they had to reset his winglets back in their sockets, it was Prowl who was by his side.

Smokescreen took a moment to sigh to himself. He wondered what Prowl would say when he saw him in his adult frame. His brother knew that he had not been due for his final upgrade for another vorn at least. He did not think his brother would be too pleased.

Prowl had left him with Alpha Trion to keep him safe after all when Cybertron had begun to go dark and the archives had been the safest place. He wondered how Alpha was doing, he had gotten quite fond of the older mech while under his care.

Smokescreen found a corner and curled up in it, watching the entrance while he waited. He hope they would be there soon, but his brother never gave him an ETA. He offline his optics for a moment. He had not gotten a decent recharge since this disaster started, and his system was running far from optimal performance. Somehow though, talking to his brother had made it all seem a little bit better.

He settled down and must have drifted off into recharge. He heard crashing outside, and jumped up, weapons already whirling to life.

He snuck to the entrance of the tunnel and saw a small ship had landed on the tarmac. Descending its ramp was a familiar figure who he recognized at once even without him towering over him in his new frame.

“PROWL! YOU ARE HERE! THANK PRIMUS!”

He ran towards his brother, eager for company again. The long silent nights had bothered him more than he cared to admit. His brother turned at his shout, weapon at the ready and then lowered it when he recognized Smokescreen’s voice. His brother’s optics narrowed. “Smokescreen. What have you done to yourself!? You are not due to get an adult frame for another vorn!”

Smokescreen hunched, slowing down. Prowl took that TONE. The one that always made him feel like a sparklet caught stealing an energon cookie. He stopped, shifting from ped to ped nervously. “Alpha Trion insisted. He wanted me in adult grade armour and able to protect myself. And it’s a good thing we did. We got captured, and it was a horrible mess. They probably would have reformatted me if they---if they knew I was still...yeah.”

Prowl still scowled, crossing the distance between them and pulling Smokescreen into a tight hug. Not something his brother would have normally done at all. He had never been one for public shows of affection. Smokescreen still felt himself held tightly. Smokescreen tried to wiggle out of Prowl’s hold. “Hey, Prowl. Lemme go. I’m fine. I promise.” 

“No, you are not fine. You are my sparkling brother! You should still be in your mechling frame, not in an adult one. You should be safe in archives with Alpha Trion not in the middle of a war zone all by yourself!”

Smokescreen was pulled tight against his brother’s plating, the sound of his brother’s spark pulsing a comfort to him. “I had no choice Prowl...”

“I know. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you. I promised our creators that I would watch over you.”

Smokescreen finally relented, and hugged his brother back, soothed by the familiar field touching his own. “You did the best you could have.”

“And it wasn’t good enough,” Prowl said.

“Prowl,” a voice came from behind them. “What are you doing?” 

Prowl looked back, letting go of Smokescreen. “I told you to stay in the ship.” 

“Like ah was gonna do that when ah finally get tah meet yer bitty brother! Is this tha mech? He ain’t a bitty anymore!”

Smokescreen looked over and saw a mech in a Polyhexian frame walking over with a visor covering his optics. He had a black and white paint job as well as helm horns. “Prowl? Who is this?”

The strange mech laughed, and Prowl blushed deeply until his white plating was as red as his chevron. “He is, that is to say- He-”

“Ah’m his bondmate. Name’s Jazz. Nice tah meetcha mech.”

Smokescreen stared, thinking he had heard wrong, “What? I thought you said he was your bondmate,” he said, blinking up at his brother. Prowl’s doorwings quivered, both sets. Smokescreen looked back at the other mech, and frowned, his midsection looked...funny. It stuck out. Smokescreen stared, trying to make sense of it. “You’re carrying aren’t you?” He looked back up at his brother, giving him a suspicious look.

The black and white mech only laughed, taking it all in stride, “Ah am. And Prowler here thinks ahm made of crystal.” His visor brightened with apparent amusement.

Smokescreen looked at his brother who was once again turned red where white plating should be. Smokescreen suddenly yelled for joy, “I’m gonna be an Uncle! This is going to be amazing!”

Jazz laughed, “Actually, my mech, yah already are. Our bitty is back on the main ship we got. His name’s Bluestreak.”

Smokescreen stared at the mech and then turned to stare at his brother in shock. “T-two? You got bonded and had two sparklings and didn’t tell me?!?”

Prowl had the grace to look away in embarrassment. “It was not something you can say over the com. I thought we would be able to stop by the archives and see you sooner than what happened.”

“Well...at least you are here now,” Smokescreen said as he was steered towards the landing craft. “Oh, scrap. I’m so glad you are here though. They...frag. I don’t even know if they took the kids or what. And everything changed. And...so many of the humans died. I had to bury Fowler and June. I guess not everything got cyberformed, and some of the humans...frag.” 

Prowl looked down at him, cycling his optics as he tried to figure out what his brother was going on about.

Smokescreen huffed, “This WAS an organic planet, Prowl.”

“What do you mean? This is a mechanical planet just like Cybertron.”

“It is now. The ‘Cons cyberformed it. They, they killed off all the organics that used to live here.”

Jazz moved over to Smokescreen, “Ah would’ve like tah see a real organic. Did yah have a pet er somethin’ tah be this upset?”

Smokescreen glared at the mech, “They weren’t pets! They were our friends! Sentient organic life used to cover this world, Prowl. And now they are all dead. I had to bury the ones that had been here. They were our friends and allies.” He vented hard, becoming upset when he had to really think about it. “They...started to change. And somehow it just didn’t work and it was horrible. I don’t understand why they had to die. They were so very...alive.” 

Prowl finally pushed him into the ship and moved him to one of the seats, buckling him in. It barely registered.

“Ah think he’s in shock,” he heard his brother’s mate say, but it barely registered in Smokescreen’s processor. “I never did find the kids. Maybe the Cons took them. They really hated them. So much. Not that I can blame them. The little guys were pretty awesome at sabotaging their plans. I think you would have liked them.” Smokescreen said, venting loudly, his helm falling back against the seat. “What are we gonna do, Prowl?”

“We are going to get you to the Axiom and have First Aid look you over,” his brother said, moving up to the pilot's seat, “and take it from there.”

Jazz sat next to Smokescreen and took his servo. “Just wait, little bro. Prowler ‘ll take care of everything. Yah focus on meetin’ Lil’ Blue. He’ll be crawlin’ over yah as soon as we dock.”

Smokescreen gave a small smile but if faded soon after, “I just wish I knew what happened to the kids and the others. I don’t even know if they are all dead or not.”

Jazz soothingly rubbed Smokescreen’s shoulders, “Who all was here anyhow?”

“Optimus, Ratchet, Bulkhead, Arcee and Bulkhead were here when I got here. Then a Wrecker named Wheeljack showed up and a little while ago, Ultra Magnus arrived. I know Optimus is dead, so is Bumblebee. The Cons abducted Ratchet before the fighting began. We were trying to get him back when everything went to pieces.”

Jazz nodded, “And the Cons? What are we up against?” 

Smokescreen shivered, “The Nemesis is here. Megatron and his command staff. Starscream, Soundwave, and S-shockwave. And...oh Primus. They have---Shockwave brought things back with him from Cybertron. Bad things. Predacons.” 

Jaz leaned away, looking into Smokescreen’s faceplate. “My mech, those are long deactivated. Tales to scare sparkling with.”

“No, Shockwave brought them back. I think he grew them in tanks or something. There was Predacon fossils here. It’s an off planet. I don’t altogether understand it, but there is something connecting it to Cybertron. They never really explained it to me. Not really.” 

Jazz sat back and frowned, “Ah see.”

“They also have part of an insecticon hive here as well. We are not sure how many of them are left after now, but it seems like half the hive just disappeared one sol. I wish you could have seen this place before the ‘Cons ruined it. It was so beautiful and the vehicles! The humans could design a sweet chassis if you know what I mean.”

Jazz laughed. “Sorry we missed it then. Sounds like quite the happenin’ place.”

Smokescreen sighed, “Yeah, it was. And now it is gone forever, thanks to the ‘Cons.”

Prowl looked back briefly, “At least you are safe, Smokescreen. I don’t even want to think of what would have happened if we had approached this planet without your warning. Thankfully Perceptor had been working on a device that keeps us effectively cloaked from the Decepticons.”

“Percy is with you? I remember him from before, a bit,” he had been very small when he had met the science met.

“He is, and a few others you might recognize,” Prowl said, looking ahead. “I’m glad we found you, little brother. You have been missed.” 

“You know I miss you too. Did..any of our clan survive...I mean did you find any others?” Smokescreen asked, hopeful. He needed something to take his processor off of what had happened on earth.

“A few of our clade made it. You will meet some of them on the Axiom,” Prowl said, much of his attention of piloting the craft. “After you see the medic.” 

“Frag that, I’m fine.” Smokescreen said, venting loudly.

“I think we will let First Aid be the judge of that.”

Smokescreen looked up at Prowl’s words. “Aid is with you?! How is he? Are his brother’s with you too? I had wondered what happened to them! Who else is with you?”

“Yes the rest of his brothers are with us. They were actually part of a secret project of Perceptor’s. They are a gestalt combiner team now. As for who else is with us, we are part of a vast armada. We all met up on our way to answer the call that Optimus had sent out but it seems that we were too late to help him at any rate.”

Smokescreen sighed and looked down, “If it helps, he went down fighting.”

“It does, and yet is doesn’t at all. Mech was a good one. The best,” Jazz said softly beside him. “Irreplaceable. But we have ta carry on. He would want that.”

“He would,” Smokescreen agreed, shoulders hunching. “He was the best. I wish I could have had more time to get to know him. He just....carried such a heavy burden.” He thought back to the cave and when Optimus had been so close to offlining. Maybe it would have been better had Smokescreen let him slip away. He kept his mouth shut though. It was too painful to contemplate. “I know he would. He had so much hope for us.”

“Yeah, OP was always like that. he saw the good in everyone. Me an him went way back, before the war. I knew him when he was just Orion,” Jazz said, “Yah kinda remind me of him. I’m not sure why.”

“I am not sure either. I am just so glad to have you back, Prowl. I missed you. I mean, really missed you. This is not what I thought it would be. It wasn’t too bad at first, there was so much to see and so much to learn about this planet and the humans. Now, its all gone.”

Jazz set a servo on Smokescreen’s shoulder. “It’ll get better. Look! There! There is our lovely fleet. Them ‘Cons ‘ll be runnin’ by sols end.”

“Always the optimistic one aren’t you, Jazz? We will need to be cautious until we know all we can about the situation. Including having you properly debriefed, Smokescreen.”

Smokescreen nodded, he had expected as much. The information, what he had was important. he just hoped it was enough. “You know I will do anything to help,” he added his optics fixed on what he believed to be the Axiom. It was big. Easily as big as the Nemesis. “You said there were...um...other ships.”

“Most of them were Con vessels we...commandeered,” Jazz said with a cheeky grin.

Smokescreen’s optics went wide, that wasn’t something he was expecting. “So...um...really? You guys have been...ah beating back the Cons and...wow. How would you even have time to start a family.”

Jazz snorted, “Life doesn’t stop for war, bitlet,” he said as they finally landed in the shuttle bay. The bay’s doors closed and the disembarked.

Smokescreen could not help but gawk as Autobot’s came running to service the shuttle and move it back into the lock. There were several other ships like it, and a lot of mechs that looked vaguely familiar. “Wow. This is...crazy.”

Jazz laughed, “Crazy is one word for it. We are a mixed bag, been pickin’ up more bots as we strolled along fightin’ the Cons.”

As Smokescreen was about to reply, a bright red and yellow mech ran right into him and knocked him onto his aft.

“Hot Rod! Get yer aft back here!”

An older mech with a worn face and a faded teal paintjob came running up. “Sorry about that. Darn brat is always trying to slack off when he has work that he needs to be doing.”

The teal mech grabbed the red and yellow mech off of Smokescreen as Prowl helped Smokescreen get back on his peds.

“Hot Rod, you were warned last time. No running in the halls. Sergeant Kup, try to keep him from breaking all of the rules aboard ship.”

The old teal mech nodded, “I’m trying, ya know how it is with younglings.”

Prowl raised a browplate, and looked down at Hot Rod who was glaring up at him, “Yes, I do. Do you really want to be sent back to the creche with the sparklings?”

Hot Rod’s optics widened, “I’m not a bitlet, I don’t need to stay with them.” 

“Then act like it,” Prowl said. “We don’t have time for all of the trouble you are causing. Prism does not cause this kind of trouble.”

Hot Rod growled. “No, the Princess certainly doesn’t.” 

“What was that?” Prowl asked, optics narrowing.

“None of your sass, sparklet. Com’on before you make Prowl blow a gasket,” Kup said, steering Hot Rod away.

As the two walked away, Smokescreen noticed his brother was glaring at the young mech as he was pulled away by the other mech. “What is wrong brother?”

Prowl looked at Smokescreen, “That mechling is a menace! He is always where he should not be. He never listens.”

Smokescreen had to chuckle softly. If anything could upset his rule abiding brother that was it. “He’s a mechling though, do they ever listen?” Smokescreen’s lipplates twitched up. it was hard not to smile. Some things did not change, and his brother was definitely one of them. 

Prowl scowled, “He may be, but this is a warship, and we need some order.”

Smokescreen did chuckle then. “True enough.’

“I expect you to follow orders as well. Just because you are my brother do not expect any special treatment.”

“I would not expect any, Prowl. I know how to keep private and public life separate.”

Prowl gave him a brief hug, “I know.”

“Com’on mechs. Let’s get Smokey here a berth and get him checked out by da doc.”

OoOoOoOo

Weld tried to offline his optics, and stop worrying, but the conversation back in the brig kept coming back to him. When he had asked Knock Out what Megatron had meant he had only been snapped at. So while Knock Out had been busy he had gone through the medical data pads that were lying around. The medic had ordered him to read them anyway, and what he found their left his tank rolling. Something in his meta cried out, saying it was all wrong. He shouldn’t be the one carrying any young, but that didn’t make any sense. He was Cybertronian...wasn’t he? 

Several times Master or one of the other master mechs had made comments about him and the others he remembered that made it seem as though they had not always been Cybertronian but instead had been something else. Was that why he was a slave instead of a proper mech?

What about the blue-opticked bot in the brig? Why did he always seem so mad at Master when they came in? Why did always seem so concerned about him?

It made no sense.

Weld vented unhappily and grabbed another pad, slowly going through it and committing the text to memory. Even this could not take his processor off of his worries. He did find that he enjoyed learning. He could not get enough. When Master did leave him alone in his rooms he would go through the datapads there, and carefully put them back into place, hoping Master would not notice. He wasn’t even sure if Master would care. He didn’t seem to mind about such things like he did his own finish. He made Weld polish him enough. That at least was preferable to the other things that Weld didn’t even want to think of.

He wondered if it was like this for the other two mechs that he had hid with. He hoped not. They...were on his processor far more often than they should have been. He didn’t even know them...did he? He worried all the same.

He did not like the things that Master made him do. He worried that the other two might be being made to do the same with their masters. What if they didn’t like it either?

He wanted to help them. It was the only thing he liked about being with Master: he was learning how to help people. Maybe one sol, he would even be able to get away from Master. He looked around quickly, worried that Master might have somehow heard his inner thought. He didn’t like Master at all if he was honest.

He bet the others did not like their masters either.

The thought made him curl in on himself, it was so hard to understand what he could have done to deserve this. He didn’t think he was a bad mech...not like the masters were. The big grey mech from the brig made Weld want to curl up and hide somewhere. HIS own master made him feel the same, but Knock Out did not inspire the flutter of complete terror in Weld’s spark that Megatron did.

When he really thought about it he also found it odd that he did like the bots in the brig. They seemed so very nice. Their fields felt safe, even if he couldn’t seem to stop himself from flinching away. 

“What are you doing?” a voice behind him asked, making Weld’s optics go wide as he slowly turned around.

“Does your Master know that you are looking at datapads?”

Weld nodded nervously. “Master told me memorize these pads.”

The Eradicon gave him a long look like he was trying to catch Weld in a lie. Weld had grown wary of the Eradicons, they seemed to try to get him in trouble with his Master. He didn’t know why, he had done nothing to them.

They just seemed to be mean.

The Eradicon finally left and Weld sighed in relief. Maybe Master wouldn’t hurt him this sol.

He wasn’t going to place any bets on that though. His shoulders hunched and he made himself look back at the datapad. He could hear the Eradicon moving around behind him, he turned quickly, peaking behind him and saw the mech stocking the closet with the medical supplies they’d need. It made his backstrut itch to have the Eradicon at his back, so he scooted around. Optics glancing up occasionally as he went back to reading the pad. His processor began to wonder again. he wished there was some way he could escape this. He wished he knew where he could go. Unfortunately he knew so little about surviving on his own. He didn’t even have an alt-mode...and would never have one if his master had his way. 

The sound of the door opening again made him look up and he leapt to his peds as his Master and Megatron walked, with Megatron carrying the smaller mech he had just been thinking of.

The other mech did not look good. There were scrapes along his wrists and ankles and the plating showed signs of cracking as well. More worrying was the lack of anything resembling an expression on the mech’s faceplates. It was just blank, with his optics focused somewhere in the distance.

His Master didn’t even seem to notice him, “-atron, I am more than happy to check and see if he is carrying. As for the other issue, there is not much I can do. Soundwave might be able to tap into that processor of his but it might do more damage than it helps.”

The grey mech growled, “That is not good enough, fix him.” He placed the limp mech on the medical berth, optics blazing with anger. “Fix him.”

Knock Out opened his mouth, and the clamped it shut again. “As you wish, Lord Megatron, I will do my best.” His optics looked around, finally settling on Weld. “Get over here and start an energon drip. You do know how to do that don’t you.” 

Weld’s optics widened, “I-I---y-yes, Master. I’ve read up on it.” He stood awkwardly, and moved to the supply closet, moving past the Eradicon and grabbing the supplies he would need. The poor mech was still lying limply on the berth when he came back. It was sparkbreaking. He went about the motions of setting up the drip, fumbling through parts of it. When he finally slid the needle into the mech’s energon line it was a relief. He didn’t have to be jacked in to tell the mech was near stasis lock, his lines nearly running dry.

“It’s about time! Took you long enough to insert a simple drip. Hmm, now let me see what is wrong with your slave, Lord Megatron.”

Master plugged a small pad to the limp bots lines, and began a full frame scan. Weld had suspicion he knew what the problem was even without the scan. He had seen how dry the poor mech’s fuel line had been and would venture to say that the poor mech had not been fueled in a very long time.

The pad that Master had attached beeped and Master studied the results. “My lord, I regret to inform you that your slave is not carrying at this time. However I have found what part of the problem is. My lord, forgive my rudeness, but when was the last time you fueled your slave?”

Megatron scowled, and stared. “I---” His scowl deepened. “It might have slipped my processor.” Weld watched him inspite of himself as he laid a possessive hand on the mech who stirred weakly, his optics flickering until the finally settled into a brighter blue. 

The mech on the table looked up at the bots confusion written on his faceplates, but did not speak. He never spoke. Weld wondered if he ever did, he certainly had not witnessed it.

“Repair the damage done and fashion a collar for him, it would seem I need to keep a better optic on him than I have been,” Megatron rumbled.

Knock Out frowned, “All of the damage?” 

“That is what I said,” Megatron stared down at his slave, red optics flaring bright. “And clean him up.” The mech’s paint was even becoming dull and scuffed. “Orion had always been a neat mech, not obsessive about his appearance, but he never would have let himself go like this, and I cannot have my slave looking like that either.”

Who was Orion? Was he a slave as well? Did the poor mech on the table get taken just because he looked like this other mech? That was monstrous! He felt so bad for the poor mech who obviously did not dare to speak in case it reminded his Master that he was not the mech that his master pretended he was.

‘Slave! Go and fetch a pail of solvents. I am not repairing this mech until he is cleaned up. His filth will mar my finish.”

Weld hurried to fetch a pail for the storeroom and then to the washracks to get the solvents. He grabbed a soft sponge and came back, and began to carefully clean the mech’s armour. There was a surprising amount of dirt built up, and soon the solvents were nearly black. He exchanged them for clean solvents and repeated the process three more times before the solvents stayed clear. By the time he was done the energon drip was empty and he ended up changing that as well before Knock Out chided him about it.

“Is there anything else, Master?” He asked, once he came back from dumping the solvents.

Knock Out looked down at him, “Yes, wheel the cart over with the supplies, you will be helping me with this.”

“Yes Master. What do you want me to do?”

“Start removing his armor so I can fix his wires and protoform. Once his armor is off, put in the solvent tank against the wall so the machine can clean it. Then you will begin to realign his wires once I have repaired his protoform. If you damage anything or break any of the armor, I will beat you so hard you won't be able to walk next sol.”

“Yes Master.”

Master turned to the large silver-grey mech, “Lord Megatron do you wish there to be any modifications to your slave? Do you wish his panel to be replaced?”

“Yes, if I am going to be taking him with me. I do not want others staring at what is mine alone.”

Weld only half listened, his spark sinking as he carefully removed the mech’s armour. It was in surprisingly good condition, not brittle yet. he could not imagine it would have stayed that way much longer. He carefully put the armour in the tank that Knock Out had pointed to. Knock Out was already working on the mech’s protoform when he came back. he stepped next to his master and began to gently fix the wires. It was tedious work, but nothing too hard.

They worked in silence, which was a blessing to Weld. Usually Knock Out jabbered on and on, but under Megatron’s watchful optics he got down to business. Weld was only halfway paying attention to what Knock Out was doing until he noticed that he was doing something to the poor mech’s panel.

“Lord Megatron, as soon as his armor is attached again you may take him with you. I added a few modifications to him. His panel is now coded to only open for you barring a medical override. I have adjusted his valves calipers to cinch down faster when his valve is empty so he will remain tight for your spike. There are also some extra modifications in his valve that are designed to stimulate a partner. I also permanently mag-locked a spikecap on him.”

“Excellent job, Herr Doktor. I will return for him once my business on the bridge is complete.”

“Of course Lord Megatron.”

As soon as the mech left, Master turned to him, “Hurry the frag up, Slave! Finish putting armor on him and then get over here and suck my spike.”

OoOoOoOo

Littleclaws tried to wiggle out the the hold that Predaking had on her, he was not having any of it. He curled himself closer around her determined to keep his mate close to him. She grumbled, and growled against him, and he purred in turn, happy to just have her close.

“Let me out,” she said, wiggling with renewed strength.

“Littleclaws, calm yourself.” 

‘Don’t call me that,” she hissed.

“It is your name, what else would I call you?” he nuzzled into her side, his chemoreceptors prickling with her scent.

“It is not. I don’t like it. I hate it,” a growl emanated from her chassis. 

Her tiny growl was quite adorable really. Everything about his tiny mate was: adorable and perfect.

OoOoOoOo

She could hear the amused rumble in his voice when he spoke. She hated being stuck here. Her sols had fallen into an all too predictable routine. She woke from recharge with her mate curled around her. She would try to leave to go exploring but would be caught before she had made it three steps.

Then she would nudged into position by her mate and would be fragged out of her processor. She liked that part at least. Her mate was a good mate, with a deliciously long and thick spike that filled her perfectly.

She then was groomed by her mate and once that was done, he transformed into his mech form. He would leave their quarters and leave her locked in. She had tried to break the lock enough times to know it was useless.

But the time trapped in the room had given her time to think. She had watched her mate transform enough times to figure out how to do so on her own. She had been quite pleased to note that except for being smaller than her mate she was otherwise much like him in frame. She wished her wings were bigger though. She did not think she could fly at all.

She had known she hated the name Littleclaws from the start. With her ‘free time’ she had decided to give herself a new name. She was not going to let him treat her like she was some dainty trinket he could lock away. She could breathe plasma fire over three mechanmeters now! She was quite proud of that and had wanted it included in her name. She also wanted to fight and so she had selected her new name.

She allowed herself to transform for the first time in front of her mate and watched his optics widen in surprise and then darken with lust. “My name is Flamewar!”

He moved around her, taking in her beast mode. “Flamewar? You have put much thought into this, my mate, haven’t you?”

She tracked him as he moved, keeping her optics on him, “I have.” Her wings fluttered, and flared out in a clear invitation. “I want to leave with you,” she added in a demanding voice, optics narrowing.

He made a humming noise, and watched her with half lidded optics, “Li---Flamewar, I do not know if that is wise.” 

Her small crest rose aggressively, “Why not?! I can fight!”

Her mate rumbled deeply, “I have no doubt about that, my little mate. However, while you are fierce and determined you are much smaller than most of those aboard this ship and I cannot allow you to engage in such reckless battles at such a time as this.”

She gave him a narrow opticed look. “What do you mean, ‘such a time as this’?”

He looked surprised, “Had you not noticed? The smell was quite clear to me several sols ago.”

“Noticed what? What smell?”

Her mate moved closer and placed his snout right against her flank, sniffing her scent deeply. “Oh yes, it is quite clear when you are in this mode. You are egg-heavy, or will be soon.”

She took a step back. Eggs? Something inside her warmed at the idea and an image came to her processor that this would be a good nesting site, if some improvements were made. Sand. Metal shavings. Clean rust granules. She needed to make a nest and find a way to warm it.

“You will help me make a nest! A strong one! Well protected!”

“Of course, our eggs must be kept safe. You shall be the mother of our species, my Flamewar. Now, we must celebrate your new name and new form.”

Before she could ask what he meant by celebrate, her mate had circled around her. He reared up as he usually did, but in this form the weight of him on her back made her feel warm within and needy. She spread her small wings and raised her tail, unsure if she was doing this properly.

She cried out as that perfect, fat spike slid deep within her and he roared as he sank all the way in with one thrust. So perfect! So good!

She rolled her hips back, savouring the way the large spike scraped against every node it hit, lighting them all up. It was nearly unbearable. Nearly. She dug her claws into the floor, venting hard. It felt so good, and only felt better when he pushed her chest down to the floor and changed the angle. She nearly screamed at the first stroke. 

Her valve clenched, and began the fluttering spasm that had become so very familiar. She was close, so close but he slowed down keeping her on the cusp.

She mewled as the feeling of overload faded back to the rush of pleasure and he slowly dragged his spike along her valve nodes. Her mate rumbled above her, “So impatient my little mate. It is better to draw it out. You will see.”

She shifted beneath him, bucking her hips back towards him, trying to drive his spike into her faster but he gripped her hips tighter and kept the same slow infuriating pace. He was driving her mad with pleasure!

When her release finally came, it was far more powerful than any she had had before. So powerful that she inadvertently spat plasma fire against the wall, leaving a scorch mark behind. Her mate just laughed, and settled next to her, still tied to her by his knot. “Impressive distance little one.”

OoOoOoOo

Copy stirred as he was being carried through the hallway. His lines no longer burned and the warnings had all disappeared from his HUD. He still felt lethargic, and far too full. It felt good and made his tank ache at the same time. He didn’t look up at his master's faceplates, and was afraid to stir too much, not wanting his attention.

A strange weight was around his neck, it was tempting to raise a hand to see what it was, but he refrained, and held as still as possible. He still shivered when he heard the loud reev of his master's engine.

“I know you are online,” the silver mech said above him, starling Copy and forcing him to look up into the those horrible red optics.

Those optics seemed to stare right through him to his core. Copy trembled as the mech stared down at him, an unreadable expression on those faceplates. “I do not know why you will not speak to me. Soundwave will examine you, my Orion. He will find what is wrong.”

Copy shivered. He did not know why but the name was enough to make his frame clench in fear. He looked over fearfully as he heard a door slide open and he was carried into a bright room.

“Soundwave. I require you to exam Orion. He has not spoken to me even once. He remained silent even when starved to near offlining. Examine him and find where the problem is and fix it.”

Copy could not seem to dampen his terror as the black and purple mech moved close, his spindly fingers rising and touching Copy’s faceplates. At the same time he could feel something pushing through his firewalls as if they were nothing at all. The presence was cold, so cold, and yet he couldn't bring himself to fear it.

::Master: unwell. Would not take it well were he to realize you are not Orion.:: 

Copy whimpered deep in his throat and wondered if the mech inside his processor would give up the game. He didn’t want to die, and he feared that was exactly what would happen if his master realized his delusion was untrue. 

“Orion’s vocalizer: damaged. Will take time to heal. Assessment: self-repair will remedy situation. Orion: will sound differently.” 

Megatron pulled a face, looking down at Copy. “I see. But it will heal?” 

“Affirmative: eventually,” Soundwave added, his visor remaining blank as he watched Megatron. 

Megatron placed a servo on top of Copy’s helm. “My poor Orion. You will be fine soon enough. Then we can speak with one another.”

Copy trembled and shuttered his optics, terrified and afraid that he would give himself away as not being this...Orion that he was mistaken for.

“You must be tired, Orion. I will take you back to our quarters so you can rest.”

“Megatron: Orion does not remember things from before. This will never be fixed.”

“I understand,” Megatron said looking down at Copy. “It is irrelevant. He is still mine.” 

The claws tightened on Copy’s chassis making the smaller mech squeak in terror.

Soundwave nodded, “Advice: patience.”

“Your advice is noted, old friend,” He turned, carrying Copy towards the door. The mech was terrified, knowing what would happened once his master had him alone again. He didn’t want to be chained back up to the berth. It hurt, and made his limbs stiff. His squirmed at the thought of it. He didn’t want to go back, and very nearly said so, but he shut his vocalizer off more terrified of talking to his master than of even being chained up again.

His fear seemed for nothing though. Instead of chaining him up to the berth again Megatron took a long chain out of his subspace, and connected one end to what was apparently a collar around Copy’s neck. The other end was fastened to a loop that was welded to one end of the berth. He had enough chain to cross the room to the energon dispenser, which he did, at Megatron’s urging. 

His steps were shaky and he gulped the cube down so fast his tank protested, but he managed to keep it down. His master watched him the whole time, making Copy even more jittery. He raised one sharp claw, “Come here, Orion.”

Copy whimpered, but crossed the distance between them, far more scared of what would happen if he did not then the consequences of putting himself within the mech’s reach. He was shaking by the time he stepped within grabbing distance.

To his surprise, his master drew him against his own frame. His master's helm settled above his own, while his master wrapped his arms around him. “I am so sorry, my Orion. I did not mean to harm you. I would never harm you. You are my beloved. I will never let you go!”

Copy trembled at the words. He felt his spark tighten at the idea of never being free of this mech who was clearly not right in his processor. He did not know what to say or if his master expected a reply.

His fears were negated by his master picking him up and carrying him to the berth. He was set gently down on it, and his master climbed in next to him. “Rest my Orion. No one will hurt you ever again. You are mine. All mine.”

Copy felt as though all of his vents were being forced shut as his master pulled him into his arms, forced him to lay down. He couldn't stop the shiver that trembled through his frame, or the little hiccuping sob that escaped his vocalizer. It only made his master hold him tighter, and the fear bubbled up, escaping through his field.

“Oh, Orion,” his master sighed, venting softly behind him.

He trembled and his master nuzzled his helm. He shivered when he felt those fangs nipping along the back of his neckplates. He bite back a yelp as his master began to paw at his panel and trembled.

“Relax my Orion. I will make this good for you.”

Copy did not understand what his master meant. His master moved from behind him and moved Copy onto his back. His master moved down his frame and slid open his panel. Before he could try to close it again, he gasped as his master moved between his legs and shove his glossa into his array.

Copy whimpered, gasping as the nodes inside of him crackled with charge. He didn’t want it, but his master knew just how to play him. Overload crashed through him, sending him screaming. He clutched at the berth, whimpering when his master did not stop, but continued through the overload, flicking his glossa against oversensitized nodes. He wanted to protest, to push the mech away, but instead he laid limply underneath him, cringing.

Copy froze as his master moved again, lying beside him. “Feel better now, my Orion? You must think me a brute for not considering you before. I will make sure you are pleased as well.”

Copy clamped down his armor as his master burrowed against his frame and entered recharge. Copy waited until he was sure his master was in recharge before sliding away from him and entering recharge himself.

OoOoOoOo

Smokescreen sat on the medical berth feeling sour. First Aid had poked and prodded at him for what seemed like hours, taking readings, checking his systems, taking energon samples, and did not seem in any hurry to let him go. “I don’t see why this is necessary,” he said for what felt like the billionth time. He squirmed where he sat and glared at Prowl where he lounged in the doorway. He knew Jazz was a room over being examined by one of the other medics, and Prowl seemed intent on waiting on them both.

“It is procedure,” Prowl said from the door, giving him THAT look again.

“Relax, Smokescreen! I am almost done. So, you said that you were on this planet before it was cyberformed. What was it like?”

Smokescreen perked up, his winglets peeking over his shoulders, “It was amazing Aid! You would have loved it! There were so many things to see, and so many animals of all kind! And the Humans! They were great! They had so many cultures and movies! They...had. Before Megatron and the Cons killed them all. Now they are all gone.”

His winglets fell, “Oh, it’s so horrible. The people. They were so amazing. A lot like us...but squishy, and they...I don't’ even know how to describe it all. But it’s gone. I just...” his ventilation grew laboured. “It’s all gone.”

First Aid frowned, watching Smokescreen’s reaction. “Oh, Smokey.” He pat the mech on the shoulder, but Smokescreen did not even seem to notice, his optics gaining a faraway look.

“I have to find the kids. The Cons took them. I know they did.” 

“I think, it might be wise it was called Rung in,” Prowl said from the doorway before pushing off and moving closer.

“Who is Rung?” Smokescreen asked, snapping out of the haze he was in and stared at his brother.

Prowl frowned, “He is...one of our medical personnel. I think he might be able to help you.”

Smokescreen frowned, and then his optics narrowed, “Yeah, what are you leaving out?”

Aid put his servo on Smokescreen’s shoulder, “Relax, Smokey. Your brother is just worried for you. It is understandable. You have been through a lot by the sound of it.”

Smokescreen glared at Aid then turned to Prowl again. “So why do you want me to see this other medic, Prowl? You think I am crazy don’t you. You think I am crazy! Well, I am not! I’m not!”

Aid moved his other servo to Smokescreen’s other shoulder. “Calm down, Smokey. You are fine. We know you are not crazy. We are just worried about possible damage. Just see him and then it will be all over.”

Smokescreen’s winglets fluttered wildly with distress. “I’m not crazy. You can’t understand the things I’ve gone through.”

“You are right, we cannot,” First Aid said in the soothing way of his. He was always so unfailingly calm. It never failed to force Smokescreen to do the same. 

He hung his head, winglets still fluttering, betraying the distress he tried to bottle away. “I don’t understand why this had to happen...or why....why Optimus had to offline. It’s not fair.” 

Prowl opened his mouth and then shut it with a soft clang. “I’m sorry, brother. I never should have left you behind. This is my fault.”

“It is not your fault! I should have been stronger! I should have been smarter so I could have seen this coming. It is my fault. I failed them! I am so stupid!”

Prowl frowned at this, “No, you are not Smokescreen. You are actually very smart-”

“If I was smart I wouldn’t have gotten trapped in a wall! Or ended up with a Prime artifact embedded in my chest cavity. Or almost ended up being forced to be a Prime!”

“What?” Prowl asked, staring and totally at loss for words. His wings twitched, shaking as though he was glitching for a moment before he gained control of himself. “What are you talking about, brother? What Prime artifact? What are you talking about?” 

Smokescreen shook his helm. “I---I---just---forget I said anything.” 

“No. Explain yourself,” Prowl demanded, wings stiff and high.

“It is complicated. Just let it go Prowl.”

“Ah don’t think so, Smokey. Prowler is right. Start talkin’.”

Smokescreen looked at the door where Jazz had walked in, a look of concern visible even with his visor on. Smokescreen sighed. “I had an accident with a Prime artifact: it was a phase shifter and it got taken from me when I was in the middle of going through a wall.”

Prowl’s doorwings twitched agitatedly for a long klik. “Were you harmed? Did any mech...take advantage of your immobility?”

Smokescreen blinked at him, “Did any---frag no. I’m still---ugh---I don’t even want to talk about this. No. No Cons took advantage of me. I’m still sealed,” he said glaring energon daggers at his brother and his brother’s mate. Red creeped up his faceplates, “Can we stop talking about this now.”

“No, we can’t. I’m not sure I believe you, maybe I should have Aid check for me.” 

‘What? No. Frag no,” Smokescreen said, nearly hopping off the berth.

Prowl pushed him back down. “In fact, I insist. Aid, scan him. I want to make sure.”

Smokescreen tried to hop off the berth but Prowl held him down while Aid scanned him without making optic contact with Smokescreen. After a few brief kliks, there was a beep from the scanner. “See for yourself Prowl. He was telling the truth.”

Prowl looked over at the screen, looking reliever. “Thank you, Aid.”

“Geroff me,” Smokescreen said, flailing and finally pushing his brother off. “That was none of your business, why do you always have to be like that?” 

“I need to know if my brother has been dishonored, if our clan has been dishonored.” 

“I can’t see how that matters. It’s not like we really have a plan anymore. It’s not like you are going to---to bond me off to some mech.”

Prowl huffed. “Smokescreen.” 

“YOU WERE. What the frag,” Smokescreen’s optics narrowed, and he jumped off of the berth.  
“Calm down, Smokescreen. You are behaving like a sparkling.”

“A sparkling? I think I am entitled to act like a sparkling when I find out my own brother was planning to sell me off! Who! Who were trying to sell me to!?”

“Smokescreen, we will not discuss this until you can calm down. You are acting unreasonably.”

“Do not give me that logical slag Prowl! If I want to deal with that I would have let Shockwave catch me during the last fight.”

“What? Why would?” Prowl shook his helm.

Smokescreen rolled his optics, his gaze turning to Jazz, “He always had a thing for Prowl. He was so logical.” Smokescreen snorted. “So who was it?” 

“I’d rather not say. It was arranged when you were still a bitlet,” Prowl groused, looking annoyed at Smokescreen, and then at Jazz who seemed overly amused by the whole argument.

“Now, now, Prowl. Ah think he has a right ta know. Yah know he can refuse, as well. Yah did after all.”

Prowl frowned at his mate, “I only refused after the mech I was promised to declared for the Decepticons. That is not an issue here. He will find out when I have arranged their first meeting.”

“Prowl! Tell me!”

“Springer,” Prowl finally said looking exasperated. 

“He’s not even Praxian. You are telling me our creators wanted to send me away?” Smokescreen shivered, “You’re joking right?” 

“He’s from a good family.” 

“Frag that. I’m not bonding to him. I’ll give my seals to whomever I please and there isn’t anything you can do about it.” 

“Do not test me little brother.” 

Smokescreen’s armour puffed up, “No, you don’t test me.” 

Prowl’s armour puffed up, mirroring Smokescreen’s own and his doorwings fluttered with agitation. “I’ll lock you up.” 

“Prowler, I think this has gone far enough. If the kid doesn’t want Springer, ah’m sure Springer’ll be happy tah break it off. Yah know he’s had his optic on Hot Rod. Not like it’s a secret,” Jazz said finally jumping into the conversation.

“That is not the point, Jazz. They are supposed to bond. They have to at least have their first meeting. It is expected.”

“Prowler, this is yer bitty brother. Do yah not want him tah be happy?”

“Of course I do, but they do not know if they will or will not be happy together without the formalities.”

“I won’t do it, and you can’t make me,” Smokescreen said, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Prowl a stubborn glare. “He wants Hot Rod. Even Jazz said it. It’s not like that kind of thing matters any more. There is no Praxus. We have no people and our creators were killed when it fell.”

“Even more reason to uphold our traditions,” Prowl said equally stubborn.

“This is stupid. You thought I was offlined not even a joor ago. Just...frag...leave me alone.”

Prowl glared at Smokescreen but before he could speak, Aid stepped in between the two brothers. “Prowl. Smokescreen. Both of you just stop. This is neither the time or place for this conversation. We have much bigger things to worry about if I am not mistaken.”

Prowl nodded, “You are correct. Come along Smokescreen. I will need to have you debriefed with the other officers. Then we can begin to make our plans on how to proceed.”

Smokescreen sullenly got to his peds and followed behind his brother.

Jazz fell into step with him, frowning at Prowl’s back when they went. “Ah swear, Prowler, sometimes you are a real glitch,” the Protihexian hissed, shaking his head. Prowl ignored him, which somehow did not surprise Smokescreen in the least.

“Where are we going?” He finally asked, feeling uneasy as they moved deeper through the rat maze of a ship.

“Debriefing,” Prowl said with a shrug.

“Am I going to meet my nephew?” Smokescreen asked, dreading what was to come.

“In time.”

Jazz slapped a servo against Prowl’s side. “Prowl! Smokey, ah’ll bring him to tha room after yer done. Yah can meet lil’ Blue then. Yah’ll two ‘ll be best pals in no time.”

Smokescreen gave his....brother-in-bond a smile. It was odd to think of such a fun loving mech being willingly bonded to his older, stick up the aft brother. They were an odd pairing, proof that Primus had a sense of humor. “I look forward to meeting him. How old is he now?”

“Two and a half vorns. He’s a handful. Todd’lin all over the place,” Jazz grinned, “Ah think you will get on. He’s a cute little bitlet, although...ah might be partial.”

“I’m sure we will. I’ve always wanted a nephew. I think. I mean...yah know. i was never around many sparklings.”

Jazz laughed, “Well now is your chance.”  
Smokescreen felt his spark lift. He did like this mech, and for all that his brother was a jerk they seemed good together. At least something was going right.

“So..who will...ah be at this debriefing?” he finally asked nervously. 

“Let meh see. Some of the officers are on patrol. Hmm, well Hot Spot will be there, Red Alert and Inferno. Ironhide, Blaster and Grimlock. Maybe a few others.”

Smokescreen sighed. That did not seem so bad. He knew most of the mechs at least. Red Alert always made him nervous though. He always acted like he was a threat to security even when he was a sparkling. “Oh. That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Don’t worry! Yah’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I'm sure,” Smokescreen said feeling completely nervous about what was to come. He hoped he hid it well.

They finally stopped and Prowl keyed in a code at the door, waiting for it to slide open before going inside. He didn’t wait to see if Jazz and Smokescreen followed. The room was large. A conference table took up most of the room.

Smokescreen wanted to protest. He wasn’t ready for this. Was not ready to face all of the mechs here, but it didn’t look like he was going to have much of a choice. A moment after they came inside the other mechs started filing in as well. Red Alert came first, casting a suspicious optic on Smokescreen. 

Fortunately Inferno was right behind him as always and led Red Alert to his usual chair after giving a warm smile to Smokescreen. Ironhide came in next, talking to Blaster who was behind him. Both of them gave him a warm smile and a wave as they went past.

Jazz gave his servo a squeeze under the table, “See? I told you it would not be that bad. They are not going to eat you after all.”

Smokescreen gave Jazz a grin and squeezed back. He was glad to have someone here who wasn’t ignoring him. Hot Spot came in and froze at the sight of Smokescreen before hurrying forward and shaking his servo. “You are a surprise to see, Smokescreen! What brings you here?”

“We will discuss that once everyone is here and seated, Hot Spot.”

Prowl waited until they were all seated, including a green mech that Smokescreen did not recognize. “As you all know I received a transmission when I sent the broadcast to earth. Obviously it was from Smokescreen, we went down to investigate and see what the situation on this planet was.” His optics flicked to Jazz. “There is a Decepticon presence here. We’ve already had Perceptor fix out shielding so that we are cloaked, but I fear that it’s a lot of bad news.”

“What is the situation with the ‘Cons?” the green mech asked, shifting in his seat, and his optics settling on Smokescreen.

“The Nemesis is in orbit,” Prowl said. “And...” he looked to Smokescreen and frowned, “I fear we were too late for our Prime.” 

“What!” At those words, every mech lept to his peds and began to demand answers and to know what had happened?

“QUIET!”

Once Jazz had yelled, the mechs settled back down into their seats. “What happened?”

Smokescreen sighed and stood up, knowing that all optic were on him. “The ‘Cons abducted Ratchet. Optimus went to scout out where the Nemesis was. He was intercepted by Predaking. We ground bridged to his location but by the time we got there, the Cons had called in reinforcements of their own. We...we could detect no life signs from his frame.” He shook his head, “And...they were waiting for us when we got onto the Nemesis. They killed them...Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee. I---I barely got away, and I am not sure what happened to Ultra Magnus and Wheeljack. They got separated from us, so I---I can’t confirm what happened to them.” 

He vented heavily, looking down at his hands, “And when all was said and done Megatron cyberformed Earth. He...he had some of the Con scientist rebuild the omega lock onto the Nemesis, and frag. I don’t even know how to explain it.” He shook his head.

Jazz put a servo on his shoulders. “It’s alright, Smokey. Go ahead and sit down. Take a klik.”

Smokescreen sighed and sat down. He knew that the others were blaming him for what had happened. It was not his fault but he would blame him in their places. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else I could do.”

Jazz patted his shoulder. “No one blames you, Smokey. You did nothing wrong.”

Smokescreen squirmed in his chair, avoiding all of the looks sent his way. There were few times in his existence that Smokescreen had felt this uncomfortable...or this much like a failure. “They are all offlined,” he mumbled, wings shaking from the stress of the situation.

“Smokey...” Jazz said, shifting uneasily.

“I failed them. I should have done more.”

Jazz frowned and sent Prowl a look. “Yah did all yah could, sparklet. Just vent, vent.”

“I think you should take him back to the med-bay Jazz. I will continue the briefing here with what information Smokescreen has already given us.”

Jazz nodded and helped Smokescreen up from his chair. “Come along, Smokey. Ah’ll take yah back to the bay and yah can take a recharge on one of tha med berths.”

Smokescreen clung to Jazz as he was led from the conference room. The optics of the others followed them out. Once they were in the hall, he sobbed again. “I am sorry, Jazz. I know I let Prowl down.”

“Shhhh....no ya didn’t,” Jazz said, hugging the younger mech. He rubbed small circles across Smokescreen’s winglets until the mech’s venting eased. “You didn’t let us down, or disappoint us.”

“B-but I did,” he whimpered, closing his optics.

“You didn’t. Just, don’t even think like that, you did what ya could. Now lets get you to the medbay. I’m sure Aid can give you something ta make you feel better.” 

Smokescreen let himself be pulled back through the halls, feeling numb by the time they made it back to the infirmary. 

As soon as they came in, Aid rushed over. “What is wrong? What happened?”

Jazz guided Smokescreen into a private room. “Smokey needs a rest. He is a bit upset and could use something to calm him down.” 

Aid nodded and drew an injector from his subspace. With a deft servo, he slipped the needle into Smokescreen’s lines. Almost at once, Smokescreen slipped into recharge. Once he was in recharge Aid turned to Jazz, “He needs to see Rung, Jazz.”

“Ah know,” the black and white mech nodded, “As soon as possible ah would think.” He helped First Aide arrange the small mech on one of the medical berths that were located in the private rooms off the the side. He pulled a cooling blanket and a soft mesh over the young mech, watching him as he recharged. “He’s so young. He shouldn't even be upgraded to adult armour yet. It’s not right, Aid.” 

“No, it’s not, but what can we do?” 

Jazz held one of Smokescreen’s hand in his own for a moment, “Ah don’t know. Ah just don’t know how ta fix this.” 

Aid put a servo on Jazz’s shoulder. “We will get him through this though. Don’t worry Jazz. We will get him through and back his old self. He will be alright. “

“Ah hope so, Aid. He has been through so much and then Prowler goes and acts like an aft about him getting bonded. So crazy, mech.”

Aid shook his helm, “If anyone can help him, it will be you, Prowl and that chatterbox you call a sparkling. Blue is a rare spark: people can’t be sad around him.”

“Yah, very true. He’s a special little bitling,” Jazz said smiling. “You’re right. if anyone can help we can do it. And I will kick Prowler if he starts acting like an aft again, ah swear. Pressure brings out the worst in him.”

First Aid nodded, “So I’ve noticed.”

“Can yah ask Rung to come down? Ah’m gonna go get Blue and have him keep meh and Smokey company.”

“Of course, Jazz. You go rescue Kup fom having his audios chattered off.”

Jazz laughed, “Yah know Kup makes Hot Rod watch Blue ta spare his own audios.”

Aid joined in laughing together with Jazz. “True enough, Jazz. Go on! I will get Rung and you can fill him in on what Smokescreen’s problems are.”

“Sounds lika plan,” Jazz said, moving towards the door. He cast one last worried glance at the infirmary before leaving.

OoOoOoOo

Jazz hurried across the compound, not wanting to keep Rung waiting.

Bluestreak was still wide awake when he arrived in the creche. Kup waved him over, and pushed the bitlet at him, “Couldn’t get the bitlet ta recharge at all. Kept the others up too.”

Jazz frowned, normally Blue would nap easily. He seemed to use up all his energy with his endless chatter, even talking softly in his recharge at times. “Ah’m sorry Kup. Ah don’t know why that would be. He recharged fine last night. Sorry he was being fussy.”

Blue smiled up at him, his bright optics and brilliant smile warming Jazz’s spark. His little Blue was such a sweetspark. “Hey there, bright optics! Ready ta meet someone special?”

Blue wiggled excitedly in Jazz’s arms, “Meet! Meet! Meet who?”

Jazz laughed, “Gonna meet yer uncl’ Smokey. Yer Papa’s brother.”

Blue’s little brows drew together under his chevron. “Broth’r?” he asked, patting Jazz’s abdomen plating, and the sparkling inside gave a push back, making Jazz chuckle.

“Yah, something like that, Blue. Yer papa’s brother though. I think you’ll like him.”

“Uncl’?” Blue asked, giggling when Jazz tickled his side. “Smoookey.”

“Yes, your uncl’ Smokey, let’s go see him bitlet,” he balanced the sparkling on one hip, and headed back to the medbay.

Blue chirped happily and curled against Jazz. He looked about as they walked through the halls and waved to every mech they passed while chirping a happy little “Hello!”

The mechs aboard the Axiom were used to seeing the bright and happy sparkling and would wave back to him while giving him “Hellos” back. Blue was loved by the mechs of the armada for his friendly and happy personality, he could any mech feel better no matter what was wrong. Now he needed to work that magic on his Uncle.

As soon as they walked into the med-bay, Blue wiggled and waved energetically to First Aid. Aid laughed and came over, giving Bluestreak’s little doorwings a tickle and then gave the sparkling a small goodie.

“Aid, Aid! Gonna see Unka ‘Mokey,” Bluestreak declared, little doorwings flapping along with his little arms before he popped the energon treat in his mouth and tried to talk around it. “‘Mokey, Ssssmmmokey.” 

Jazz shook his head at his bitlet’s enthusiasm.

First Aid’s lips curled into a kind smile, “I’m sure he will be happy to see you, little Blue.” He gave the bitlet one last tickle, making Bluestreak squeal and burble before they headed over to the private room where Smokescreen was resting. Jazz knocked on the door, craning his neck in he was not surprised to find Smokescreen awake.

Smokescreen looked up at the sound of the door opening, his faceplates splitting into a wide grin at the sight of the small sparkling that was eagerly waving at him. “Hi! Hi! I Blue! You Smookey? Hi!”

Smokescreen laughed just as Jazz had hoped. Lil’ Blue was working his magic already. “Go give your Uncle Smokey a hug, bitlet.”

Blue giggled as he was set on his peds and made a wobbly line as he ran to Smokescreen and hugged his leg hard. “Hi! I Blue! Hi!”

Smokescreen reached down, picking up the bitlet who immediately latched onto him and gave him a big, wet, and slightly slobbery kiss on his cheekplates, and giggled wildly.

“Hiiii.” 

Smokescreen watched the creature in his arms for a moment before laughing softly, “Hi, Blue. Aren’t you the cutest thing ever?” 

Bluestreak let out a little gasp, “Eber.” ‘

“He is our little sparkbreaker, aren’t yah Lil’ Blue?”

Blue frowned, “Nu-uh! Break sparks is bad! I no bad! I is good! I is good mech! Papa said so!”

Jazz and Smokescreen laughed at Bluestreak who got an indignant look on his faceplates, “No laugh! No laugh at Blue! No nice!”

Jazz calmed down, “Sorry, sparkling. Yah right, laughing at yah aint nice. Yer just too cute fer yer own good, bitty.”

Bluestreak wiggled his winglets, in what Jazz could only describe as preening. Sometimes he was so painfully like Prowl it was not funny in the least. “Blue best. Papa say so.”

“And your papa is always right, isn’t he?” Smokescreen said, hugging the small mechlet to him.

“Papa alw’s wight. Alw’s. Loff him,” Blue said, his winglets fluttering away. 

“Ah, we love him too, Little Blue. And we love you too,” Jazz said winking.

“Cawee silly,” Bluestreak tried to wink back, but utterly failed, both of his opics closing at once.

“Your Carrier appears to be quite silly Blue. Is your name just Blue or is there more to it?”

“I is Bluesweak! Papa says is good name!” Blue poked himself in his chestplates as he said his name.

“Blue- Bluestreak? Is that right?” Smokescreen reached back and rubbed at the base of Blue’s doorwings, making the sparkling purr.

“Yus! I is Bluesweak!” Blue wiggled in pleasure at the petting he was getting to his doorwings.

“That is a very good name Bluestreak.”

“I is veeeery good,” Bluestreak agreed still giggling. “Vewy good. Smokey good too?” 

“I try, little mech. I try.” Smokescreen looked up meeting Jazz’s optics. “I really do.”

“Smokey stay wit us?” Bluestreak asked, curling up against Smokescreen’s chestplating, tucking his head underneath Smokescreen’s chin. “Papa’d be happies.”

Smokescreen vented, rubbing Bluestreak’s doorwings. “I will as long as I can.” 

Blue smiled, “Yay! Smokey stay!”

A worried look came over the little sparklings faceplates, “Smokey like Blue?”

Smokescreen smiled, “Yes, I like you Blue.”

Blue still looked worried, “Smokey no tell Blue Shut up?”

Smokescreen looked shocked and Jazz looked at his sparkling in anger, “Blue, sparkling, who told you to shut up?”

Blue looked down, “Roddy. He say I stupid sparkling can’t keep mouth shut.”

Jazz’s armour bristled, “When did he say that to you, sweetspark?” 

Bluestreak wiggled his shoulders shrugging and hid his faceplates. “Roddy say it all’a time. Dunno like watchin’ Blue. Said it a wot ah--a wotta scrap. Whats scrap Cawee?” 

“Something yah shouldn’t be sayin’, little Blue.”

“Blue in troubble?” the sparkling asked, whimpering.

“No, you aren’t in trouble. Roddy is in trouble by the look of it,” Smokescreen said as he watched Jazz stomp out of the room without another word. “A lot of trouble by the looks of things.”

OoOoOoOo

The sols had dragged on, the only break in the monotony was the brief glimpses of Raf and the one moment where they saw Ratchet. Ratchet had looked delighted to see them, but less so when he realized that Knock Out had slapped Raf to the floor of the brig again.

Poor Kid. Wheeljack wished was out of this stupid cage that he was trapped in. He wanted to get out of here and rescue the kids. Especially Miko! With Bulkhead gone, he was the one left to take care of her. She was an adopted Wrecker after all and no Wrecker left another behind.

The very idea of her being beaten like Raf was on an every sol basis and by that predacon of all things made his energon boil. As it was he and Magnus were working on a plan. He shifted in the small area, and craned his head down the hall. There seemed to always be someone coming into the cell block, and they needed it to be clear to get out of the cells. He still wasn’t sure how they were going to get their weapons back, but there had to be a way. Miko and the kids were depending on them...even if they didn’t realize it.

“Now is as good a time as any,” Magnus said, meeting Wheeljack’s gaze. 

“Yeah, and we have to figure out where they are keepin’ Ratchet. What do you think the chances of that are?” he hissed.

Magnus shrugged, “I don't’ think you want to hear my calculations.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

Magnus gave him a flat look, “Just get phase one taken care of. We cannot work on the next phase without more information and Ratchet seems to be our best bet on getting that information.”

With a careful look to make sure no one was coming, he deftly picked the lock. Once he was done, he waited for the right moment and began to move in the security camera’s blind spots.

Before too long, he was leaving the cell block that he and Magus had been slung in and was moving towards where Ratchet should be held. As he moved he heard a set of heavy peds coming and he ducked into a narrow corridor. To his distaste and rage he saw Predaking walk by and the slagger was carrying what could only be Miko in his arms.

He was proud of her, she was hissing and clawing at the mech as she was carried down the hallway.

“Take me back, take me back now. It’s not safe.” Her words drifted to him, and they were puzzling.

But not as puzzling as Predaking’s reply, “No my mate, we must get you scanned and assure our eggs’ safety.” 

Eggs? Wheeljack frowned from his hiding place. What the frag was even going on, he was not sure, but he did not like the sound of it in the least.

He would have to ask Ratchet about that once he found the medic. He did not like the way that that predacon was acting with Miko. The girl, now femme, was like a sparkling to him and Bulkhead. For Bulkhead’s sake if not his own, he would make sure she was well taken care of.

He waited until the two had passed and then he dashed across the hallway and into the next cell block. Luckily, he could see Ratchet as soon as he was in. The medic seemed shocked to see him, standing up and rushing to the cell bars. “Wheeljack? How did you get free?”

“I have my tricks,” Wheeljack gave Ratchet a lopsided smile. “We’re working on a plan. We needed to find you...and find out where they are keeping the kids. Plans not going ta work if we have no idea where they are.” 

“You know about them then?” Ratchet asked, shifting from ped to ped. “I’m not sure how feasible breaking them out will be. Jack...I think Megatron has him. I’ve not seen him. Raf is being kept by Knock Out. He’d be the easiest to get. Miko...well...yeah...”

“I’ve seen her,” Wheeljack growled, “That monster had her. She was going on about...’eggs’. What is that even?” 

Ratchet blanched, “What?” 

“I said---”

“I heard you,” the medic snapped, “Frag. I hope you heard wrong.”

Wheeljack gave Ratchet a curious look, “Why? What does that mean?”

Ratchet gave Wheeljack a scowl. “If you heard right, and Miko has eggs then it would mean that she is carrying! That Predaking had sparked her! I don’t think I have to tell you that that would be very bad!”

Wheeljack felt as though his spark froze. Miko? Sparked? By that monster? He’d kill it! Kill the slagging beast for forcing Miko!

“I hope you heard wrong, but...I don’t think you did. It is why they grabbed the kids,” he looked away, closing his optics.

“Why?”

“We are very few,” Ratchet whispered.

“They are nearly sparklings.” 

“Do you think that the Decepticons care? They will use them until their sparks give out, all to give them more soldiers and citizens to mold. They will use the rebirth of our race to indoctrinate a new generation of Decepticons.”

Wheeljack growled, how dare the Cons use sparklings like that! It was a disgrace! “Sparklings were supposed to be protected!” It was just the way things were.

“I know. It is,” Ratchet said slowly, “But the Cons don’t see it that way. They don’t care.” 

Wheeljack backed away, “Yeah. Right. I’ll be back later then. We have to get them out as soon as we can. We can’t---we can’t let this happen.”

Ratchet nodded, “Right.” Wheel jack could tell that he didn’t want to say that it might already have happened.

Wheeljack nodded, “Fine I’ll---I’ll be back then.”

He started to leave, then turned and passed a small device to Ratchet. It has poor transmission over longer distances but should be fine for our two cells. “I will comm you later when Magnus and I have had a chance to plot a bit.”

Ratchet slipped the device under a panel of armor. “Be safe, Wheeljack. Our numbers are already few. We don’t need to lose you as well. If not for my sake, then for Miko’s.”

Wheeljack nodded, and slipped out of the cell block into the hall. He made his way through the halls, slipping past the sentries easily enough.

His was still raging inside by the time he arrived back into the cellblock and let himself back into the holding cell.

“Did you find him?” Ultra Magnus asked, looking Wheeljack up and down.

“Yeah, I found him. Gave him the comm,” he shook his head. “We need ta get out of here as soon as we can.”

“What is wrong? Report soldier!”

Wheeljack gave Magnus an unimpressed look. “Really, Magnus? Trying that slag again?”

“I said report.”

“FIne. I found Ratchet. I...saw Miko too. She is a pretty little femme now, feisty as ever though. We have a problem though. Ratchet knows why the cons took the kids in the first place.”

“To strike at us, of course.”

“Not just that apparently.”

“Then why? What purpose does taking the children serve?”

Wheeljack shook his head, looking disgusted. “I...frag...they are going to use them to---they are trying to spark them up.” 

Magnus stared at him, “What did you say soldier?” 

“Ya heard me the first time. They are using them...that way.”

“They are just younglings, barely more than sparklings. Surely they wouldn't...”

Wheeljack sighed, “They can and they are. We need ta get them outta here as soon as we can.”

Ultra Magnus looked horrified by what he had learned. “Are you sure?”

Wheeljack scowled, “Yeah. When I saw Miko, the predacon had her. Was talking about getting checked for sparklings. Well, he called them eggs but Ratchet said that is just a predacon term for sparkling.”

Mangus looked shocked at the idea that one of the children could be carrying so soon. “We have to get them free of those brutes as soon as possible then!”

Wheeljack rolled his optics, “That’s what I’ve been sayin’....Sir.”


	2. Chapter 2

He came out of stasis slowly, unexpectedly. He had never thought he would wake again after he slid from Megatron’s sword. It had hurt. Throbbed as he had fallen through the Omega Lock. Nothing hurt now, though, and the metal beneath his back was cool. It felt like Cybertron...and yet not.

He onlined his optics and blearily looked around. To his right lay Bumblebee, while on his left Arcee and Bulkhead lay sprawled on the ground. He would have sworn that like him, he had seen the three of them being mortally wounded. How then were they alive? Where were they?

As he looked around he was surprised to see how much like Cybertron the world they stood on looked. But there were small differences that made it clear that this was in fact not Cybertron. There were plants of crystal that looked nothing like the crystals of Cybertron. There had been several species of mechanimals that had never lived on Cybertron.

“What is this place?” Bumblebee said beside him, his voice as clear as it had been before his voicebox was destroyed.

“Bee...” Bulkhead said first, as they all stared at the yellow scout. “Your voice...” 

Bumblebee’s optics widened, “What...what is going on?” His hand moved to his throat. “How is this possible.” 

“How is any of this possible?” Optimus said, and frowned as he looked about. “What happened.” 

“I saw you die,” Arcee said, her voice breaking.

Optimus looked at her in shock, “What?”

Arcee looked at Optimus and trembled as she looked at Bumblebee and Bulkhead as well. “I saw you die. All three of you! You were dead and I was fighting a swarm of vehicons with the others. Then I was waking up here, where are we? What is going on?”

“I do not know. Let’s return to base and seek our answers there.”

Arcee shook her head, “I don’t think we have a base to return to. Look at this place. Look what they’ve done to Earth. Oh, Primus...the kids. What happened to the kids?” Her optics widened in alarm. “I’ve got to get back to Jack. Scrap. How could this happen?” 

Optimus opened his mouth, and for once he did not even know what to say. He looked about the landscape and his spark tightened in his chest. He tried to comm the base, and it was only met with dead static. “There will be no ground bridge. They aren’t answering the comms.” 

“We need to get going then! It will take us hours to get back to the base and find out what has happened to Earth and the kids!”

Bulkhead had been helping Bumblebee stand, as the yellow mech was having trouble balancing for a few breems. At the mention of the children however, Bulkhead turned to Optimus, “What about Miko? She always seems to be in trouble somehow!”

“Raf! We have to make sure he is okay!”

“We will ensure that all of the humans are safe. Autobots: Transform and roll out!”

OoOoOoOo

Weld shook as he took the cube to the white and red mech. It was more from nervousness than hunger this time. His master had been keeping him better fueled, probably out of fear of the grey mech than out of any concern about Weld’s welfare. He couldn’t blame his master. The large grey mech was terrifying.

“Here you go. P-please drink this b-before we go t-to the medbay. My master has something he wishes you t-to look at.” He looked behind him, at the Vehicon who stepped forward with a set of stasis cuffs. 

The white and red mech looked at him for a long moment, then took the cube and slowly drank it. Once he was done, he rose to his peds and allowed the vehicon to put the stasis cuffs on him. As soon as he was secured, Weld opened the door and allowed the mech out of his cell.

Something about the mech made Weld feel safe for reason. He liked the feeling even if he didn’t know why he felt as he did. Master never made him feel like this. Master made him hurt and be afraid but never safe.

The white and red mech looked at Weld often, finally asking: “Are you alright? Is he fueling you properly?”

Weld’s optics glanced at the vehicon and then back at the other mech, “Y-yes.”

The mech nodded, and moved down the hall in silence, but Weld caught him watching him more than once before they made it to the medbay. He found himself drifting closer to the mech as they walked, comforted by the mech’s field as it mingled with his own. It felt like a warm hug, and made him feel odd, like he should know it.

“About time you got here,” his master said as they walked into the medbay. “Get over here.” 

A pink and black femme was sitting on the medical berth, and glared balefully at them as they entered the room.

There was also another mech that was large and ferocious looking that glared at anyone who came near the femme. The white and red mech rumbled angrily at the sight of the other mech so close to the femme. “What do you want?”

“Scan the femme for sparklings...I mean eggs. Predaking believes he has sparked his mate.”

The mech scowled and reached for his subspace and pulled out a datapad. The vehicon however was startled at the move and swatted the datapad to the ground where it broke. “I needed that!”

Weld stiffened, his optics fell on Ratchet, and he did not hide the look of shock on his face as a memory flit through his processory. A memory of that bot saying that very thing...only things were different. He was small. So small. He felt differently. No engine rumbled in his chest. “R-ratchet?” 

The red and white mech froze, and slowly looked back at him, shaking his head. “Frag.”

Weld ex-vented hard, trying to fight the panic that was rising through his systems. An overheating warning flashed across his HUD, as he turned back and saw his master looking at him.

He did not like the look his master was giving him. Only, he wasn’t his master. He was Knock Out. He was bad. He was not supposed to be around him. It was too dangerous. He, he had been told so by....by …...someone. Someone who had been with Ratchet!  
Why was he here when it was not safe? Where, where were.... others? Friends! He had friends!

He looked up and saw Ratchet start to move towards them, then Knock Out pushed past him and that was the last thing that Weld, no Raf saw before it all went black.

There was someone yelling over him when he finally came back to himself. The sounds sounded odd and muffled. His optics did not want to focus. He had to reboot them three times before he could get them to focus on the faces above him. 

“Get up,” Knock Out said, looming above him, clawed hands grabbing for him.

Raf screeched and tried to scramble away, but his limbs did not want to cooperate. 

He was snatched up by Knock Out and he saw Ratchet being restrained by the vehicon from before. He did not know what had happened, his memories were still somewhat fractured but more was coming back to him.

Knock Out raised him to his peds and glared down at him. “I warned Lord Megatron you brats would have residual memories. Fortunately Soundwave can get rid of them quite easily. Come on, brat.”

“No please don’t,” Rafael cried out, his heels digging in and he tried to get away from the large mech. “Please don’t. I’ll be good I promise,” he babbled.

“What is going on here? You are disturbing my mate,” Predaking growled, stalking over. His optics fell on Rafael who was still cowering.

To prove his words, the small femme shrieked and spread small winglets while a small amount of plasma fire shot from her mouth and signed the vehicons’ armor. Predaking immediately began to nuzzle the small femme and crooned deep in his throat which seemed to soothe her.

She nuzzled back but kept a baleful optic on Knock Out. “Looks like your brat needs a good processor cleaning as well, Predaking.”

Predaking growled and switched to his mech form. “If you dare threaten my mate again, I will end you medic. You assistant has done all the work recently it seems anyway. He can take over for you with little effort I suspect.”

“You beast, how dare you,” Knock Out growled, realizing his mistake he backpedaled as Predaking moved closer, growling loudly. He towered over Knock Out, and grabbed him by the throat. “One more word, doctor. Just one more word.”

Ratchet Pushed the Vehicons away from him, and helped Raf to his peds. Raf watched Ratchet, and Ratchet’s optics were firmly fixed on Predaking, a speculative glint in his optics.

Predaking forced Knock Out against the wall and glared down at him for a long moment. “You will never speak of changing my mate in any way, medic, or I will rip off your oh so pretty plating and force feed it to you piece by shiny piece.”

Knock Out stared at the Predacon in shocked horror. “You would not dare!”

Predaking leaned in real close to his faceplates, “Watch me, medic. Now stand aside so my mate may be scanned and we may learn if she is truly with eggs. We must know so we may begin to construct her nest.”

“Fine,” Knock Out stopped over to Ratchet, pushing him towards the medical berth. “Scan her now.” 

Ratchet glared, “No need to get violent.” He looked back at the little femme who was waiting less than patiently. He grabbed one of the datapads and jacked in to her.

“This won’t take long, little one,” he said frowning down at Miko.

“Do not flirt with my mate, medic! She is mine! She is carrying my eggs!” Predaking glared at Ratchet and Raf shifted nervously where he stood. He turned and gathered up the pads and tools that he knew would be needed and carefully moved next to Ratchet. He silently held up the tray of tools to Ratchet.

“Thank you, Ra-Weld.” Ratchet threw a look at Knock Out. “Hold the instruments for me. See this small port here? That is her data access panel. You can attach the scanner pad here.” He pushed the jack into her port, and flipped through the menu, going slow enough for Raf to follow along. “This is easy enough. You start the scan and the program does the rest of the work. It will search through her coding to see if her carrying protocols have been activated, and if the have it will search for the sparklings coding. With that we can check to see if it is a mech or femme as well as the code donor.” 

Raf watched with wide optics. “It looks easy enough,” he said in a small voice, his optics flicked to where Knock Out was watching them with narrowed optics.

Knock Out did not seem to be pleased. Raf leaned closer to Ratchet, and paid close attention to the pad. However he noticed something odd, that Ratchet had not mentioned. “Ratchet what does this mean? Are there supposed to be this many signatures?”

Ratchet frowned, staring at the datapad in confusion. “What in the name of Primus.....?”  
Predaking loomed over the medic and Raf. “What is wrong with my mate?”

Ratchet gasped, “By the Allspark! She is carrying twelve sparklings! That is impossible!”

Predaking purred loudly, “Twelve? That is the perfect number of eggs.”

Ratchet blinked at him, “Cybertronians do not carry that many sparks. It would...it would snuff out sparks out. It is impossible.”

Miko let out a little keen at Ratchet’s words, “You want to hurt my sparks, I will rip you to shreds if you hurt them.” 

“Flamewar, calm yourself. They are merely ignorant of our ways. You will be fine and we will build a big nest for the coming eggs.” 

Raf did not understand what was going on but the femmes voice was familiar to him. Could it be? “Miko?”

The femme jerked to a halt and froze for a long moment. She stared at nothing before turning a looking at Raf. “Raf?”

Knock Out strode forward and grabbed Raf tightly by the arm and shoved Ratchet to the vehicon. “Take that back to it’s cell. It seems my slave needs to go see Soundwave for some reprogramming.”

Rafael keened as he was pulled towards the doorway, Knock Out’s grip on him only tightening as he was pushed into the hallway.

“P-please don’t do this. Please, Kn-master. Please. I’ll be good, I promise,” Rafael said knowing he was babbling. “I-I’ll do whatever you want.” 

“You will anyway,” Knock Out snapped, pulling the small mech down the hallway towards Soundwave’s rooms. 

By the time they stopped at a doorway what seemed like on the complete other side of the Nemesis, and a floor up rafael was a mess. His optics still leaking cleaning fluids as Knock Out pinged for entrance.

It took but a klik before the door slid open and revealed the silent form of Soundwave looming over the two of them. Knock Out yanked Raf forward. “Soundwave, my slave requires some personal attention from you. I need you to remove some pesky memories and return him to a proper slave breeder for me.”

Soundwave did not move for a long moment, and then darted a servo out and grabbed Rafael. Before he could scream he was dragged into the room and Knock Out was left on the other side of the door. “Please! Please! Don’t hurt me!”

Soundwave ignored his pleas, and cast a long look at the door, and the banging that was going on on the other side. “Soundwave: will not hurt mechlet. Knock Out: foolish. Memories are spark-deep. Will always return.” 

“What are you going to do with me?” Rafael quivered.

Soundwave turned his full attention on Rafael, making the small mech squirm with the intensity of the mech’s regard. “Soundwave: will not hurt mechlet,” he said again, thin digits moving over Rafael’s scuffed plating as if he was checking for damage. 

“Knock Out: Poor choice of guardian. Mechlet not trained as Lord Megatron desired. Mechlet injured. Lord Megatron displeased. Mechlet Soundwave’s.”

After his careful examination, he was herded to a small chair and sat in it when it was clear that was what Soundwave wanted. He shrank back as Soundwave drew a servo back. “Mechlet: not fear. Soundwave: not cruel.”

Rafael’s vents came fast and sharp. He had trouble believing Soundwave’s words, any Cons. “What are you going to do with me?” he asked again, plating clamping down tightly.

“Mechlet: stay there,” Soundwave said, rising, and moving to the comm unit in the corner of the room.

Rafael shivered, looking towards the door. He could still hear the medic on the other side pounding and yelling for Soundwave to open up. Rafael shrank into himself, offlining his optics. Things just kept getting worse. He was so lost in his own grief that he missed most of the conversation on the other side of the room. Megatron’s gravelly tone snapped him out of his self pity. 

“-maged his property? Deliberately sabotaging his sparking protocols? I see. You also claim he has been failing to train him as a medic as well. What is your solution to this problem?”

“Lord Megatron: Soundwave superior. Soundwave trains mechlet.”

“Hmm. Very well. The mech is yours. I expect him to carry as soon as possible as well, Soundwave.”

Rafael stared as the screen went blank and Soundwave turned his equally blank face towards him. Raf watched as the mech walked to where the only berth in the room was. To his surprise, Soundwave reached out with a slender servo and pulled out a smaller berth from underneath. Raf looked from the small berth to Soundwave, and noticed that even with his faceplates blank, Soundwave seemed sad. “Whose berth was that?”

Soundwave gestured to the berth, “Berth: Frenzy and Rumble’s. Both: believed deactivated.”

Rafael shivered, “I---ah---see.” He opened his mouth to ask who they were, but it could not quite come out. “I’m sorry,” he finally said lamely, not understanding what was expected of him at all. He had heard the end of the comm. It was only a matter of time before Soundwave forced him too. The thought of waiting for it to happen...made a whimper escape his vocalizer. He didn’t want to carry at all. Ever.

“Rumble and Frenzy: missing for vorns,” Soundwave said, visor turned to Rafael almost expectantly. 

“What are you going to do with me?” he finally said in a rush, not expecting Soundwave to answer this time anymore than he had answered the previous.

“Soundwave: protect mechlet. Soundwave: train mechlet as medic.”

“You are just going to do..../that// aren’t you! I don’t want to! I never wanted to!” To his embarrassment, cleaning fluids flowed from his optics.

“Soundwave:never force mechlet. Mechlet: spark immature. Mechlet: frame immature.”

Rafael looked at him in disbelief. He wasn’t going to be forced? He did not believe it. “Don’t lie to me. I-I heard what Megatron said. H-he said I was expected to carry as soon as possible.” He vented loudly, fluid still flowing down his cheekplating. “D-don’t lie to me.” 

“Soundwave: not lying. Megatron: never told mechlet not able to yet. Soundwave: will make Lord Megatron understand.” He reached out one thin digit to touch Rafael, “Mechlet: has much potential. Mechlet: clever.” 

“I have a name,” Rafael said, armor clamping down tight.  
“Rafael: dead. No longer that individual.” 

“I am not dead!”

“Mechlet: in new frame. Humans: destroyed or converted. Mechlet: new life.”

Rafael had moment to realize that he had not thought about the rest of his kind. He had been trying not too. It was too painful. “My family? My Mama? My Brothers? Sisters?”

“Family: likely deceased. Most humans: unable to convert.”

Raf fell to his knees and wept. He was now all alone and he had no one to turn to.

“Mechlet: not alone,” Soundwave said, kneeling beside him. “Soundwave: will protect.”

Raf felt himself relaxing as those thin digits rubbed little soothing circles across his winglets. It left him feeling exhausted and emotionally wrung out. It would have been easy to just offline his optics and fall into recharge.

“Soundwave: will take care of mechlet.”

Raf did not feel up to protesting this time, he wasn’t in any position to. There was no escape from this.

Still, part of him cried out and he sobbed, “Mama! I want my Mama. I want my family.”

Soundwave continued to rub the soothing circles on his back and winglets. “Request: not possible. Mechlet: recharge. Tomorrow: training with autobot medic.”

Rafael curled up on the small berth and sobbed softly to himself while Soundwave returned to what he had been doing before. After a while, he drifted off into an uneasy recharge.

OoOoOoOo

Flamewar did not know why but the small mech seemed very familiar to her. She felt like she should know him. When he called her that strange word, ‘Miko’ she had been barraged with a flood of old memories starting to return. She remembered his name, “Raf?”

She could only watch, frozen with horror as Knock Out pushed the red and white medic at one of the vehicons, “Take that back to it’s cell. It seems my slave needs to go see Soundwave for some reprogramming.” He pushed Raf through the door and into the hallway, she could still hear Raf crying.

A growl rose deep in her chest. She would have jumped off of the table had Predaking not grabbed her. She squirmed, tightening against him. “What is wrong, my mate?” 

She turned and buried her helm against his broad chestplates. “He is hurting him! He is my friend and he is being hurt! I remember him, somehow, from Before.”

He pet her winglets and looked where the medic had dragged Raf away. She turned and looked at the other medic. He looked so familiar as well. “R-ratchet?”

The medic looked back at her and seemed pleased that she remembered him now. He was forced from the room by the vehicon, leaving her alone with her mate. That seemed wrong now though, somehow. What was happening to her?

Her frame trembled, and her armour clamped down on the protoform, “I don’t understand this. None of this is right.” She trembled, looking up at her mate. “I---I don’t understand.”

“Calm yourself, my mate, you will upset the newsparks inside of you. It is not good for their growth to do such a thing.” He nuzzled into Flamewar’s helm, “Stay calm.”

“But it’s not right. This---I shouldn't be here with you...”

He tightened his grip on her, “You wish to leave me? With our eggs within you? No! I will not lose you!” He shifted back into his predacon form- a dragon a part of her chimed in- and curled around her protectively. “I will not lose you, my little Flamewar. What has disturbed you?”

She shifted under his frame and the warmth of his wings. It felt good and safe on one servo but on the other hand she was trapped and needed to get free! “I don’t know! I- I remember another life. Nothing makes sense!”

“Ah. That.”

She froze, stiffening against him, “THAT? You know...you know about that?” She shivered, agitation rising through her systems. “What do you know?” She squirmed and wiggled, trying to get away from him.

He held onto her tightly, pressing her against his plating. “My mate, do not do this.” 

“Let me go,” she snapped, voice rising.

She did not know what she was supposed feel or do at the moment! Part of her wanted to bury herself against her mate and feel safe but another part was angry, infuriated that he had kept this from her! Why would he not tell her something like this?

What was the Before? Why did she only begin to remember it now? Who were these mechs that she seemed to know? Ratchet looked as he should but the angle was off in her memories and the little mech, Raf, did not look like he should even if she could not tell you what he was supposed to look like.

“What is going on? Tell me, Predaking!”

Her mate rumbled against her, “It does not matter, it is the past. It is over, and you are my mate now. That is what is important. You must remember that.”

A growl rose up in her own chest, “You’d tell me how to feel?” The growl grew in volume.

“That is not what I mean, my mate.”

“Then what did you mean? Why are you treating me this way? Why will you not tell me?”

Her mate curled around her, nuzzling at her faceplates. “Please calm down. All this stress is bad for you and the eggs. Think of them if not yourself.”

The mention of the eggs was confusing as well. She loved them and wanted them on one servo but on the other hand she felt panicky at the idea of being a mother. Why did she feel this now? Before she had been happy until she remembered the time Before. 

“My mate?” Predaking asked, nuzzling her, “Please, don’t get so worked up. Please.”

A keen escaped her lips, She didn’t know what to do. It made the spark in her chest clench, and she could feel the fear from the newsparks. She tried to get a hold of herself, for their sake. More memories came flooding back, she closed her optics against the onslaught and gave in to her need to curl closer to the warm plating beside her.

She felt so much safer like this, tucked against her mate by a warm wing. She could feel his spark pulsing beneath his plating as well as the surge of his armor as he vented. The soft sounds soothed her and the newsparks within her.

She felt herself relaxing and the newsparks calmed as well. She could feel their contentment. “Tell me what is going on. Explain why you never mentioned any of this before now. What is so dark and terrible that you refuse to tell me? Do you think I am not strong for such information?”

“Never! Never, my little Flame. You are as fierce and strong a mate as a mech could ever ask for.”

“Then what?”

Predaking hummed against her, searching for the words, “You are not what you were before.” He finally said, far less sure of himself than he normally was. “You were not one of my kind, but I saw you fight...and even then you were brave and worthy.” He hummed.

She listened to what he said and considered it, “I---am glad you found me then.” 

“I am glad I found you too, my mate.”

“What was I before?”

Her mate thought on it, “The others called your kind ‘hoo-mans’ and there were once many of them. When he took this world to be our new home, Lord Megatron ordered it cyberformed to make it more like our home, Cybertron. Hoomans were lost for the most parts. Some like you were changed into our kind.”

Flamewar thought about this for a long klik. “I want to go and work on the nest while I think.”

Predaking hummed, “Good, our eggs need to be protected.” He nuzzled into Flamewar’s side, purring loudly. He had picked well, she was the best of mates, and the thought of all of the new predacons they would create made his spark warm. “Come then, let’s go back to our home.” 

She followed him out the door, claws clicking as they slowly walked back. She could not help but wonder if she had lost anyone when she was a hoo-man, and wonder what Knock Out had done with Raf. That at least made her hackles raise.

Her mate nuzzled her and spread a protective wing over her. She nuzzled him back, a faint purr rumbling through her at his protectiveness of her. Each mech they passed was growled at and he would stand between her and them, almost daring them to draw closer.

She lifted her helm and placed a small loving nip at the corner of his mighty jaw. He rumbled with pleasure and nipped her back, with such gentleness it was barely felt.

Her optics dimmed, and she leaned against him as they slipped into the nesting area. “We need more meshes for the eggs,” she said, looking the room over. “They need something soft to rest on.”

“If that is what you wish,” he said, watching her move about the room.

“It is. They need to be kept safe.”

She looked over the half built nest and began to work on it again. She shoved more rustflakes and soft titanium sand into the giant pile that she had made and began to shape it into a rough cone. She carefully widened it into what some would recognize as almost looking like a volcano. Yes. She would line the inside with soft meshes and the outside of the opening as well.

She could lay on top of the opening and breathe her plasmafire on the sand and rust to warm the eggs and the meshes would trap the heat and keep the molten sand from harming her eggs. It would be perfect. She settled on top of her nest and looked over at her mate.

“I think it will do. What of your opinion?”

He watched her, with half-lidded optics. “I think it is good, my mate.” He moved closer rumbling, “I think our eggs need more transfluid to make them strong,” he circled around her, plating already heating up.

She watched him, head canted to one side, “They do?” A slow smile inched across her facial plating.

“Yes, you do, that is my opinion, my mate. We will have the strongest of sparklings, how could we not?”

Deciding to have a bit of fun with her mate, she shifted off of the nest. Knowing her mate’s optics were on her as she moved, she added a bit of extra sway as she padded toward him. She abruptly turned and teasingly lifted her tail so he had a good look at her bared array. She heard her mate rumble behind her and move towards her. She quickly turned and moved away. She slipped to the other side of the room and repeated her little tease.

Her mate rumbled, “So you wish to play, Flamewar? Very well. I shall catch you!”

He pounced towards her and they proceeded to chase each other in the small room. Finally, her mate pounced on her. Thinking quickly she transformed and rolled out of mating position. She stood in her femme form and leaned against the wall for a moment and found herself lifted up as her mate followed suit.

Her back hit the wall as Predaking in his mech form pulled her into a possessive claiming kiss. She shuddered as he shifter her legs so they wrapped around his waist and she could feel his spike rubbing against her. With a solid thrust, she was spread wide by her mate’s wonderful spike.

He always felt so good inside her. She let her helm fall back, moaning when he began to move inside her. Her insides fluttered around him, clenching around the thick spike. This was always perfect. Her vents stuttered when the spike plunged back in and scraped against the nodes, firing each one as it past, and finally ground against the node at the ceiling of her valve. “Yeeees.”

She moaned and leaned forward, biting down hard on the edge of her mate’s armor, leaving a noticeable bite mark. He rumbled at the feeling and nipped her back. She purred at the claiming mark, reveling in being claimed as his so visibly.

She moaned as he picked up the pace of his thrusts and she was fairly bouncing on his spike with the power behind it. She screamed as her frame overloaded and shook with the charge from it. A moment later, she felt the rush of fluids that marked her mate’s overload as well. He drew her into his arms and carried her back to the berth-nest they had made. She was snuggled beside him, his spike still within her, as they powered down into recharge.

OoOoOoOo

Copy frowned at the piled of datapads in front of him, his master looked rather pleased as he pushed them towards him. He picked them up, one at a time, examining them. He couldn’t read any of the glyphs. His spark fluttered with fear until he came across one that he did not think was supposed to be in the pile. When he flicked it open it looked like a primer.

He looked up at his master and forced himself to smile at the mech while holding the datapads to his chestplates. He would study the primer and learn to read the strange glyphs. Then when he could no longer fake being mute he would be able to talk about them.

He did not want his master angry at him. He was frightening enough on his own.

“I thought you would be pleased, Orion. I remembered that you said that these were your favorites. They will keep you entertained while I am away during the sol. I was thoughtless to not provide you with something to do while I was gone.”

His master took a servo and pressed a kiss to it. He swallowed when he saw the look in his master's optics. He set the datapads down and followed as his master used the servo he held to make Copy follow him to the berth. “I am afraid I only have a short amount of time before I must go, Orion.”

With that, his master made him sit on the edge of the berth and then he was laying on his back, with his master between his legs above him. He felt his panel being slid open and shuttered his optics.

Sharp digits flicked against his valve, pushing in and stretching the platelets open. It felt odd. Uncomfortable. He arched into the touch, spreading his legs wider knowing it was what his Master wanted...and he wanted to keep the mech happy, even if it meant he had to do something that he hated. 

“Yeees, Orion...” his master hissed, pushing into him. It felt odd as he was stretched wide.

His master began to thrust and grunt as usual, and luckily for Copy it was only a few more breems until he felt a rush of fuids inside him and he was released. His master pressed a kiss to his helm and then left him alone on the berth.

He waited a moment to be sure that his master was truly gone and then turned to the stack of datapads that had been left for him. At this point anything would be better than staring at the walls all sol.

He flicked the learning pad on and tried to settle in, he noticed a jack on the side of pad and frowned, wondering. He had seen Soundwave jack into datapads on the the bridge. He had seen a lot of things since Megatron brought him with him most of the time now. He fumbled at his arm, finally finding and opening the little panel on his arm. He unspooled the cording within. It felt odd in his hands, and jacked in. He was immediately pinged with a data packet. After more fumbling, he opened it, and nearly moaned as the data unfurled within his neural net.

He could feel the knowledge filling his processor and settling into him. He could suddenly hear a voice in his helm, “Welcome! This is Beginner Glyphs. Please turn to the first page, which will have a glyph that looks like this in the bottom right. If you need help finding the glyph, say help.”

Copy flipped through the datapad until he found the glyph that he had been shown. He turned to the page and the voice began to coach him on what glyphs were what and what they meant. He soon was lost in the explanation and had no notice of time. 

He heard the door open, and he looked up wild-opticed, fearful that his master had returned already. It was not the large grey mech, though it was the large spindly-limbed mech that made him feel wary.

He watched the mech move into the room, and scooted away towards the head of the berth, his optics never leaving the mech’s blank faceplate.

The mech moved to where the stack of datapads sat on the floor. However, he then noticed that a second mech had entered the room as well. The new mech was even smaller than he was! It took him a minute to realize that it was the same small mech he had seen before he had been dragged to this room by the eradicons.

Copy looked at the smaller mech in surprise. He had seen so few people since he had been locked away in here. “What...what do you want?”

“Copy: examination needed. Weld: in training. Will scan you.”

The small mech smiled at him, in what Copy imagined was supposed to be a reassuring look. “I...oh...okay. D-d-does m-m-my Master know you are here?” He felt relieved that at least this mech did not call him by THAT name.

“Megatron: aware. Megatron: otherwise...occupied.” 

“Oh...ah...that is good.”

“Copy: needs to hide learning pads. Lord Megatron: would not be happy with deception.”

“N-no he would not,” Copy agreed.

“Copy: correct. Soundwave: possess other datapads. Contain: educational information.”

“What if /he// finds them? He’ll kill me for tricking him!”

“Copy: claim that Weld dropped datapads. Weld: left them by accident.”

Copy though about it. It might work. “Will, will Weld get in trouble for it? I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.”

“Weld: safe.” His spindly digits rested on Weld’s small shoulders possessively, “Weld: Soundwave’s mechlet.” He said as if that explained everything. 

Copy’s browridges knitted together, “N-not like I am my Masters?” 

Weld flinched, “Not like that at all.” 

“Oh,” Copy said, not knowing how to take that.

“I wish we could help you more,” Weld said, finally plugging the datapad into Copy’s side port. “But, I don’t think...” he looked back at Soundwave. “I’m not sure it is possible.”

Copy reached out to pat Weld’s servo, “I understand.”

Weld however jerked away from his touch. Copy looked at him in shock before Soundwave explained. “Weld: newly Soundwave’s. Former master: cruel.”

Copy felt both sad that the smaller had suffered like he had and jealous that Weld had been rescued by Soundwave. He was thankful that the mech was helping him though, he knew that if his master had discovered that he was not this ‘Orion’ that it would not end well for him. He did not know who this Orion was or had been but he pitied the poor mech.

The datapad beeped as the scan finished, startling Copy. “Everything looks fine, your system recovered fast from the deprivation, luckily. There was no permanent damage.”

“Lucky. I guess,” Copy said looking away.

“Things might get better,” Weld said, trying to sound hopeful.

Copy gave him a doubtful look, “I do not see how.”

Soundwave shook his helm, “Weld: implausible. Copy: Survival is paramount. Endure.”

Copy nodded, he understood what the mech meant. While it might get better, it was doubtful. Instead his best bet was to focus on simply surviving. He would learn and hopefully continue to fool his Master and maybe one sol his life would get better. He needed to be alive for that to happen though.

Weld flinched at Soundwave’s words. The smaller mech seemed to be expecting a blow at every turn. It seems that despite being terrified and belonging to a mech who was half mad, it could be worse.

“Weld: finished?” Soundwave asked, looking towards the door. 

“I’m s-sorry M-ma---er---Soundwave. I’m almost finished,” he scrolled through the results on the datapad. “You should be fine, Copy. Just make sure you stay fueled. Your systems are a little stressed, but that is...understandable.” He tucked the datapad away, moving close to Soundwave until he was touching the other mech’s plating. Copy cou’d not help but feel sorry for him.

“Thank you for your help,” Copy murmured, still watching Weld.

The little mech gave him a tiny, and fleeting smile, “I wish we could do more.” 

Copy was not a fool and knew that they were taking great risks just doing what they were. “You have taken enough risks as it is. I do not think that my Master would appreciate learning of all you have done for me.”

Weld seemed to shrink in on himself. “I’m sorry. I wish Soundwave could save you too. You are in need as much as I was with...my old master.”

Soundwave touched Weld’s shoulder with one of his tiny servos. “Weld: other patients waiting. Predaking: not patient.”

“Oh, oh...you are right. He is not,” his blue optics widened in alarm. “We had better go.” He trembled, reaching up and taking Soundwave’s thin digits in his own. “Stay safe,” he said to Copy as he let the tall, think mech lead him from the room. 

Copy watched them go, not entirely sure what to think or what had just happened. The door slid shut behind them, leaving Copy alone once more. He got up, and tucked the datapads away, hiding the learning pads before he curled up on the berth and pulled a mesh over him.

He laid there and reviewed what he had learned on his datapad. He could spell his name now and practised basic words and the vocabulary words he had learned. ‘Door. Chair. Energon. Berth. Dispenser. Cube. Floor. Wall.’

He looked at the ceiling and traced the basic glyph alphabet with his mind. He would soon start the next vocabulary chapter. It looked very good. It was nice to be learning again. It gave him something else to think about while he waited for his master to return.

His spark clenched at the thought of the mech returning. It would happen far too soon. He pulled the mesh closer to him, rolling onto his side. He wished there was a way to escape. To get far, far away from here. Sometimes he wondered what he had done to deserve this. Perhaps nothing at all. It was...at least better than when he was chained to the berth all the time. That time was hazy in his memory banks. He remembered the pain, and the way his lines burned, empty. Just thinking about it left him shivering.

Finally, he heard the door slide open, and heavy pedfalls echo through the room. He didn’t get up. He didn’t have to look to know that his Master had returned.

“Orion? Are you recharging?” 

Copy did not know what he should do at the moment, should he pretend that he was in recharge? If his master learned he was faking recharge though, he would be punished. He finally decided it was easier to simply to show he was awake.

He sat up on the berth, the mesh he had wrapped around him falling slack around his waist. He looked up at his master and saw that his master's optics were much brighter than before. That could not be a good thing at all.

The grey mech crossed the distance between them, optics intently focused on Copy. “You look well, Orion. I wish you could have come with me. I missed you.” 

Copy watched him, too scared to look away. He never knew what his master would do, he was unpredictable at best. He gave the smallest of nods, and reached out, despite his fear.

“My generals have returned from their exploratory trip to the planet. They brought back more mechs and femmes. As you can imagine this is the best of news, my spark. The land we will rule together is amazing, almost as beautiful as Cybertron.” 

His master pulled on the mesh, pulling it away from him much to Copy’s dismay. He wasn’t surprised when his hand was grabbed and he was pulled into his master's arms. It was hard not to fight the grip on him, but he let himself grow limp, venting harshly as he was pulled against the other mech’s chassis.

His Master had him flush against his frame and then tilted his helm up. “You alone can rival Cybertron in beauty. Together we will take this world and mold it into a new paradise of the Decepticon cause. You shall be at my side as my Queen and Consort. Does that not sound nice?”

Copy thought it did not sound good at all. He felt so bad for the mechs and femmes that had been brought in. He could only imagine the pain and suffering that they would be put through. He did not wish that on anyone.

Instead of answering he curled against his master's chest, nuzzling against him. It seemed to be the right answer because the mech’s system purred against his own, and the clawed fingers stroked his chassis gently. It would have felt nice if it was somemech that Copy truly cared for. He closed his own optics, biting back a whimper of dismay. He wished he could have left with Weld.

“It will be glorious, my consort, you will see. I will make you happy. It will be like...before...before the counsel stole you away from me.”

Copy shivered at the feeling of his Master petting his frame. His master placed a servo on his midsection, “They even stole this from us, my Orion. We would have been fine if they had not interfered. You were so happy when you told me. You remember? You messaged me that you wanted me to come to your apartment in Iacon, that there was a new recruit you wanted me to meet.”

Copy nodded, playing into his master's delusion.

“You were alone and I asked where the new recruit was. You took my servo and held it here. You told me I would see him soon enough.”

Copy’s spark clenched in his chest, feeling sorry for his captor despite everything else. He leaned against his Master, tucking his head beneath the larger mech’s chin. It all seemed rather unfair. All of it. He wondered what had become of the child, but doubted he would ever find out.

“They destroyed him though, like everyone else, and they made you hate me,” his master's ventilations became rough and laboured. “They made you forget everything we had together. And I...frag...I came to believe it might be better if you were dead anyway. You were lost to me and there would be no bringing you back. Not as long as the Matrix was in your chest. I hate that abomination.” 

Matrix? What was that? Why did his Master hate it?

He put his helm against his master's chest so his Master would not see his expression. “It’s okay Orion. I know you mourned for him. You were lied to by the Council and the Senate. They told you that he would be fine. It is not your fault that the Matrix forced him to be lost.”

Copy shivered. He could not imagine losing a sparkling. That must have been the worst thing.

His Master held him tighter, a shiver going through him. “We will have another little one soon, I know we will. He cannot be replaced, ever. But I still need an heir, Orion. I hope you can find it in your spark to love him as much as the first.”

Copy vented against him, he did not want that, but like everything else that was happening to him he knew he would have to make the best of it, or risk his masters anger and possibly be offlined for is. As Soundwave had said, survival was paramount. He would do anything to survive. Even become this...Orion, and bear his master's sparklings. The other choices were not something he could contemplate.

His life seemed to become stranger and stranger each sol.

OoOoOoOo

Prowl sighed and steepled his fingers together. He had had far too many unpleasant surprises in this last sol. First, they arrive in system of the broadcast Optimus Prime had broadcast. Only instead of their long lost leader, he had found only his sparkling brother.

He had been shocked to see his brother already in his adult frame. He should have still been a mere mechling not a hardened warrior who seemed to be the sole survivor of a devastating Decepticon attack that had resulted in the destruction or capture of the Autobot Command group.

He looked over when heard the door open followed by his mate stomping angrily in.

“Ah am gonna offline that little bratling when I get aholda him,” Jazz’s optics blazed and his armour puffer up in agitation.

“Who, exactly are you going to injure, my love?”

“Hot Rod. That little brat, he told Blue to shut up, and that he talked too much. He upset him. And ah can’t even find the little glitch. He saw me coming down the hall and ran away. Looked for him for---”

“So that is where you have been? Hunting down a youngling for saying things that younglings say.” 

Jazz glared. “Prowler.” 

“Younglings are mean. You of all mechs should know this.” 

His mate glared at him, “Blue asked Smokescreen if he was going ta hate him too fer talking too much. That is more than being mean, that’s being cruel.”

Prowl felt his doorwings flare at the idea of his sparkling being made to feel so poorly about himself. “Very well, I concede that Hot Rod was cruel. However there are better ways to resolve the issue than the head of special operations beating up a mechlet.”

Jazz sniffed an plopped himself down on their couch. “Ah still want ta beat tha little brat.”

Prowl shook his helm, “Try to control yourself. Where is Bluestreak anyway?”

“He wanted ta stay with ‘Uncle Smokey’ fer a bit.”

Prowl nodded, “I see. Probably not a bad thing. I take it they instantly took to one another?”

The angry look vanished from Jazz’s face, “You could say that.” 

“Good, he needs everything he can to get through this. He is far too young to have gone through what he has.” Prowl’s doorwings drooped, “I cannot help but think this is all my fault. I never should have left him behind. Had I known...” 

“Ah, Prowler, don’t be too hard on yerself. Yah did what yah thought was best.”

“Apparently my best was not good enough in this case. He is---he shouldn't’ even be upgraded yet.”

Jazz stood, crossing the space between them, “Prowler.”

“It is true, Jazz. I failed him. He was trapped all alone after seeing mechs and femmes fall to Decepticon weapons. He was hunted and outnumbered. I am his brother and the head of our clan. He should never have gone through such suffering. He deserves better.”

“Ain’t no one better than yah, babe.”

“I wish that was true, my Jazz.” Prowl sighed as Jazz sat down on his lap and retracted his visor, baring the bright golden optics that he loved to see.

“You are perfect to me, Prowler. I know that you would have prevented this if you could have. There was no way to know any of this when you left Smokescreen with Alpha Trion at the archives.”

Prowl leaned into him, pulling Jazz closer, “I thought that would be safe if anyplace was. I thought Alpha Trion would keep him safe. I don't’ know how I could have been more wrong.”

Jazz’s optics dimmed, “Yah are far to hard on yourself, love. Yah did the best you could. Stop beating yourself up over it. He’s here now. He’s safe.” 

“But for how long? The rest of the fleet will be here soon and we will go to war once more.” 

“It is the way ah things, can’t change it till that Cons are no more,” Jazz reasoned. “No one will be safe till they are gone.”

“So this will have to be the final battle ground. If Smokescreen is telling the truth, and he is not one to tell lies, then an entire world of sentient people was destroyed to make way for Decepticon progress. Optimus Prime died trying to protect a world of people not involved in our war and now they have been added to the casualties.”

“I know Prowler. Smokey seems to be quite torn up about it. It seems he was quite close to several of the natives and is beside himself about their loss.”

“Was Rung able to see to him?”

“Not yet. He has an opening to see him tomorrow. So he will be examined then. Bluestreak seemed to be helping him. Smokey let slip that some of the organics he was closer to had been their version of sparklings.”

Prowl’s doorwings quivered, “Frag...this is a mess.”

“We’ll sort it out. Ah know we can,” Jazz said, tucking himself against Prowl’s chestplates and nuzzling his neck cording. “Ah have faith that we can. Smokey’ll talk to Rung and he will help him through this too. Yah know that will help. Rung’s good at what he does,” he added, voice oozing confidence.

Prowl looked down, finally tipped Jazz’s head up, and caught his lips in a kiss. 

Jazz kissed him back and snuggled against Prowl. When they finally broke the kiss, Jazz nuzzled against Prowl. “See? It is looking better already.”

Prowl nuzzled Jazz back, “So it is. You are right Jazz. I should focus on the positive. We are here together. We have our precious Bluestreak and our newspark with us. Smokescreen is here and safe now. We can deal with the rest as it comes. I will work on the plans again in the morning.”

Jazz beamed at him, his golden optics glowing with happiness. “Yah are so smart, Prowler. Should we go get Blue? Smokey will need to get some real recharge at some point.”

“Eventually,” Prowl purred, all of his attention on his mate in his lap. “I think he will keep for the moment. You need taken care of, don’t you.”

Jazz’s smile became mischievous, “Oh, ah do?”

“Always,” Prowl said, “our littlest one needs nanites I think.” 

Jazz snorted, “Uh huh. That’s how it is? Yer so romantic, Prowler.” Jazz said, lips twitching up.

Prowl stood from his chair, holding Jazz in his arms and moving towards their berthroom. “I would be a very poor tactician if I failed to take advantage of an opportunity to spoil my mate. After all, it is rare when we do not have to worry about Bluestreak.”

“So true, Prowler. It would be a shame to let a sweet chance like this pass by.”

Prowl carried Jazz into their berthrom setting him on their berth. “Indeed. Now, let me put my plans into action.”

Jazz scooted across the berth, optics heavy as he watched Prowl crawl on after him. “What do these plans entail?”

“I’m not sure it would be wise to divulge that yet,” Prowl said, all seriousness as he pushed Jazz down onto the berth. “I’m not sure that is in your security clearance.”

“You’re a brat,” Jazz laughed, hooking clawed digits into Prowl’s collar mooring and pulled him down into a more heated kiss. “Yah know we special ops mechs have ways of getting info, right?”

Prowl smirked down at Jazz, “You are welcome to try, Jazz. I think I will win though. I have many plans.”

Jazz purred at the look in Prowl’s optics, “Well, ah will have to coax all yer plans out of yah Prowler.”

Prowl pressed kisses along Jazz’s helm horns and then down his cheekarches. “I will have to be on my guard. The last time you caught me....”

“Was tha’ night ah saw yah fer tha first time.”

Prowl purred, “The very night,” and nuzzled his way down Jazz’s spark plates, nipping at the seams, dipping his own clawed digits in and plucking at sensitive wires until he had Jazz squirming beneath him. He knew this mech’s sweet spots as well as his own and used that knowledge shamelessly intent on making Jazz beg for it. “It was quite a chase. Mmmm...maybe we can do that later. I could chase you through the halls and take you where ever I catch you.”

“What would the crew think?” Jazz bit out, his own engine roaring.

“That you are a lucky mech? That your mate is quite capable of satisfying you? That you are an insatiable berth minx?” Prowl smirked at Jazz, who was venting hard

Prowl leaned down and pressed a series of kisses down Jazz’ midsection and was about to go lower still- when the door chime went off.

They both froze.

“Frag,” Jazz bit out, and wiggled out from under Prowl as he heard the door slide open. 

“Prowl? First Aid said I could bring Bluestreak to you? Hello?” Smokescreen’s voice called from the other room, and he stopped at the door to the berthroom, his cheekplates heading up as he took in his brother still sprawled on the berth. “Oh, ah...I didn’t...I’m ah...sorry,” he finished weakly, holding tightly onto Bluestreak who had been in recharge.

Bluestreak was startled out of it, Blue optics coming online and he turned in Smokescreen’s arm. “Papa, Paaapa,” he said, arms coming up. “Papa.” 

“I---ah----maybe I should come back later,” Smokescreen said looking more flustered as the kliks ticked by.

Prowl sighed and let Jazz up off the berth, before going to Smokescreen and taking Bluestreak from him. “Hello, Blue. Did you have a good sol?”

“Papa! Papa! Papa! Unc’a Smokey here! Unc’a Smokey play with Blue! Blue loff Unc’a Smokey!”

“Sounds like you had a busy sol then. Let’s get you something to fuel on and get you clean. Your berth time is coming up.”

Blue gasped and looked at Prowl in horror, “No! No Papa! No berth! No! No! No!”

Prowl laughed, “Yes, yes yes. Otherwise you will fall asleep in your energon in the morning,” he lifted Bluestreak up, and blew on the little ones stomach plating making the sparkling giggle loudly.

“Papa baaaaaad,” Bluestreak declared, grabbing at Prowl’s chevron. “Baaaaaad. Blue not ‘charge. Not ‘charge. Play with Unc’a Smokey.”

Prowl snorted, as he settled the sparkling on the hip and moved towards the common room, “You are spoiled, sparklet, completely spoiled.”

Bluestreak gasped, making a shocked noise, “Not ‘poiled.” 

“Oh yes you are. You are so spoiled that soon you will start sprouting rust spots. Spoiled rusty, that’s what you are!”

Blue looked indignant, “Not rusty! No! Not rusty! Papa rusty!”

Prowl laughed and then noticed that Smokescreen was looking at him in surprise. “What is wrong Smokescreen?”

“I have never seen you like this. When I was that small you treated me like I was a nuisance.” 

Prowl raised a browplate, “I---I am sorry if you think that, Smokey. It was never my intention. I loved you.” Prowl tilted his head to the side, “I love you. I just---I didn’t know what to do with you. I never expected our creators to die like that.”

Smokescreen shrugged, looking uncomfortable, “It’s fine, I’m---ah glad you are happy.” 

Prowl hugged Bluestreak, nuzzling his little chevron. “I am, but I want you to be as well.” 

“Unc’a Smokey sad? Unc’a Smoky wan’ Blue goodie?”

Smokescreen smiled at Bluestreak, “No, thank you Blue. You can have your recharge snack yourself. I’m not sad. Sweet of you to ask.”

Blue preened, his tiny winglets flaring proudly, “I is sweet! I is sweet!”

Prowl and Smokescreen laughed at his proud expression. “Yes, you are Bluestreak. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

Blue flailed about, “No! No bath! No bath! Papa ebil!”

Prowl somehow managed to keep a hold to the squirming sparkling, and managed to get him into the washrack despite his yelling loudly for his ‘Unc’a Smoky’ to save him.

“He’s ah servoful,” Jazz said, pushing Smokescreen towards the seating area and getting him a cube of midgrade.

Smokescreen watched the polyhexian, “I can tell. What are you goign to do with two of them?”

“Ah am hoping this one won’t be quite so rambunctious,” Jazz said, patting his abdominal plating.

Smokescreen snorted, “I don't’ think you will be that lucky.” 

“Ah can hope. Lil’ Blue takes after Prowler in frame but meh in personality. So maybe, this one’ll take after meh in frame and act like Prowler.”

Smokescreen laughed, “I can’t imagine that the universe is ready for another Prowl. Blue is adorable and I am sure he will make a great big brother.”

Jazz smiled, “Yeah, Blue’ll be ah great brother.”

There came the sound of massive splashes of solvents from the washrack and Jazz shook his helm and walked over. “Sounds like Blue is winning tha’ war in here, Prowler.”

Smokescreen laughed, “Sounds like it. He seems to have...ah...really taken to creatorhood.”

Jazz smiled fondly, “Ah can’t argue with that. Ah was a bit scared when I found out ah was carrying the first time. It wasn’t something we ever talked about, never really considered it before then. Ah don’t think he had either, but he was pretty excited when he realized he was going to be a creator. He has...a very good spark.” 

“Yeah, he does. I’m glad he found you,” Smokescreen said looking away.

“So am ah. Ah think Primus everysol,” Jazz replied, his hands fluttered against his abdominal plating. “Ah hope you will find somebot that will make you just as happy.” 

“I doubt it. Prowl seemed pretty determined to sell me off to this other mech. He will most likely make me bond with what’s his name. Prowl wants the old traditions followed no matter what.”

Jazz pet his arm, “Prowl will not make you bond to Springer if you really don’t want to. I will make sure that you will not be forced if it comes down to it.”

“Thanks Jazz. So has Prowl started looking for a mech to set up an arrangement for Blue?”

“Not really, ah put my ped down on that. He had an offer from one ah the Seekers that defected. But ah nixed that. Blue will bond with someone if an’ when he wants to, not because ah some pre-arranged bond. Ah won’t stand for it.”

Smokescreen gave him a doubtful look, “You...are very outspoken for the submissive mate.” Smokescreen finally said and blinked at Jazz when mech started laughing.

“It’s not even like that, Smokey. Ah am not a Praxian. Ah can’t an’ won’t fall into a---role like that. We are equals. Just because ah ended up being the one tah carry doesn’t mean---Prowler could have just as easily been the one to do it.” 

Smokescreen blink at him, opened his mouth and then shut it abruptly. Speechless.

“I cannot even begin to imagine Prowl carrying a sparkling. It is too bizarre. He was always meant to be the dominant in a relationship. It is not something that I ever imagined that Prowl would do so.”

Jazz laughed, “I can see how that would be the case. Prowl always has that dominant vibe. It was a bit confusing to start, since I am not the most submissive person. But we worked it out as equals and have never looked back.”

Smokescreen looked at Jazz, “I would love to have that if I am honest.”

“Ah, you poor thing. Praxus’ society was too constricting. Yah shouldn't have to fall into a certain role because ah yer creation order. Yah don’t seem like a submissive to me at all.”

Smokescreen huffed gently, “I never really thought about it, honestly. I just...want someone to love me for who I am and not what house I was born in.” 

“Ah know how that is,” Jazz hummed and pat Smokescreen’s shoulder in a comforting manner. “It’s different now. There is so few of us.” 

“That is true. Especially for us Praxians. Ever since Praxius fell, there have been fewer and fewer of us. I think that is why Prowl is so insistent about keeping to the traditions.”

“Ah would have to agree, Smokey. Prowler wants to keep the traditions and culture of Praxus alive as much as he can.”

“Has he tried to get you to learn how to do the energon ceremony yet?”

“Tried, and succeeded,” Jazz gave him a cheeky grin. “It has become the Mid-vorn tradition.”

“Oh, frag, really?” Smokey squinted and tried to imagine Jazz in the ceremonial robes, and flushed. Not something he was supposed to be thinking about is brother in bond. “Yeah, I bet that is sweet.”

“Sweet is not tha word I’d use,” Jazz said shaking his helm. “Ta be fair we also have kept up a lot of Polyhexian traditions as well. Ah think it’s important that Blue knows where he came from.”

Smokescreen looked Jazz in surprise, “That sounds fair to me. I am surprised Prowl went with it though. He has been all about preserving Praxian culture. I agree with you though. It will be important for Bluestreak and your new bitty to keep the old traditions alive.”

“Yeah, Lil’ Blue is already learnin’ some o’ tha ol’ instruments an’ songs fer Polyhex. Once he gets bigger, ah’ll teach him some of tha ol dances too.”

Smokescreen smiled, “Sounds good to me Jazz. Well, I should be getting back to my quarters. Have a good night Jazz.”

“Sure yah don’t want tah stay for a bit? Talk tah your brother before you leave at least.” 

Smokescreen wiggled in his seat, “I don’t know he’s probably---ah---exhausted and you need some alone time, right?” His cheekplates heated up visibly.

“Ah, Smokey. Don’t worry about it. It’s not the first time were were interrupted, an ah doubt it will be the last.” 

Smokescreen stared at him, mortified. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“So yah going to stay or go?”

“I think that I am still going to go. I need to recharge. I wasn't able to get a proper amount while I was on my own. I was too afraid to let my guard down.”

“Then it is a good thing that Bluestreak and I have finish our solvent battle.”

Smokescreen turned his helm and saw his brother coming out of the wash racks carrying a dripping Bluestreak who was holding a small toy and was waving it around excitedly. Smokescreen came over and pressed a kiss to Bluestreak’s helm. “Good recharge, Bluestreak.”

Blue pressed a kiss back when Smokescreen began to draw back, “Goo’ ‘charge, Unc’a Smokey!”

“Good recharge,” Smokescreen said to his brother and Jazz before slipping out of the room.

OoOoOoOo

It took them far longer to get back to where Nevada had been then Optimus had estimated. They were all exhausted and running on fumes by the time they reached the ruins of the military base. It was quiet, and seemingly empty as they drove down the pockmarked road.

They transformers on the edge of the ruins, and stared at the battered buildings. Nothing looked quite the same, shards of crystal breaking up the landscape and glinted under the moon’s light.

“Do you think we will find them?” Arcee whispered, far more subdued than was normal for her.

“There is always hope, Arcee.” Optimus put a reassuring servo on her shoulder. “Fan out and look for survivors and any energon that might remain.”

Steeling herself, Arcee walked into the building that had been their home once. She froze as she took in the hole ripped into the side of the building. She looked around noticing the scrapes and gouges that marked the floor. A servo on her shoulder made her jump.

“Any sign Arcee?” She turned and saw Bulkhead behind her, with Bee waiting behind him.

“Nothing yet.”

She moved around the dark room, “Looks like there was some kind of scuffle here. I---I don’t even know where to start looking for them.” The moved further into the room, looking at the furniture that had been thrown around, and the crystal growths springing from cracks in the floor and ceiling. The catwalk was lying broken on the floor, and beside it there was a large stain on the floor.

“Smells like energon...mechblood.” Arcee said, her armour clamping down as tight as her field. She frowned, noticing a scrap of material under the the catwalk. It was ragged and dirty, but it was unmistakably one of Jack’s shirts. It was the same colour as the one he was wearing that day. She reached down, picking it up with shaking digits. 

“What did you find, Arcee?” Bulkhead had come over to her side.

“Look. It is one of Jack’s shirts, or what is left of one.” She looked down at it sadly. She was about to look for more signs of Jack when they heard Bumblebee cry out. They rushed over to where he had been.

“Bee! What is wrong?”

Bee sat by a pile of debris and turned with his servo upturned, there on his palm sat a tiny pair of all too familiar glasses and an equally familiar computer. “Raf! He was here. What...what if..”

“You can’t think of that, Bee.” 

“Hey Arcee, did you notice that there is another one of those odd stains over here too?” Bulkhead pointed to a stain that marked the ground not too far from where Bee had found his grim tokens.

“This...doesn’t make any sense at all,” Arcee frowned, hugging the scrap of cloth to her chestplates. “It looks like...like one of our kind bled out here.”

Bulkhead shook his helm, “Let’s go find out what bossbot has found. Maybe he has some answers.”

Arcee and Bumblebee followed him out, walking like sleepwalkers through the ruins. They found Prime standing in front of several mounds of disturbed earth.

“Optimus?” Arcee asked, touching his arm.

Optimus turned and looked at her. He then gestured to the mounds. “Someone has been here.”

Arcee looked at the mounds, “What do you mean, Optimus?”

“These are human-style graves. I...believe Smokescreen was here. The servo marks look about the right size. There a more behind this row.”

Arcee looked at the row and felt her spark tremble. So many lives lost. Were the children among them?

She look and trembled, “What happened...they are....much bigger than needed for a human.” She frowned, they were at least as big as a cybertronian. “Do you...do you think the cyberforming changed the humans?” 

“I don’t know,” Optimus said, “It is a possibility.” 

“What should we do now? What can we do?” she shook her helm, looking from the graves back to Optimus. “The trail is cold.”

“I wish I had the answers,” Optimus said softly.

There was a crackling sound of power being restored and they turned to see Bumblebee wiring a make shift generator to the ruined building. Pale lights came dimly on and Bee began to dig through the pile of debris where he had found Raf’s glasses.

After a long moment, he had dug out a hidden compartment that led to the underground energon storage. He slid open the recessed door and climbed down. He then handed up a cube for each of them. At least they would not starve just yet.

Arcee took her own cube, and drank it slowly. The whole situation was making her twitchy. “What now?” she finally asked, looking uneasy as she finished off the cube.

“Keep looking,” Optimus said, “Perhaps we can find some sign of what became of them.” 

“Check the computer logs,” Bumblebee said, “there is one that is operational in the bunker. Maybe Smokescreen left us a message.” 

Optimus nodded, “That might be our best hope.”

Arcee went to the computer and began trying to access the records that were stored there. After a few breems, she looked up. “Optimus! The computer is showing that a message was recieved! And a reply was sent!”

“Play back the message Arcee.”

“‘-bot base, this is the Axiom. Repeat, this is the Axiom. Autobot base do you copy?’”

“Oh, frag,” Arcee bit out. “Is there a way to send a transmission back?” She frowned, none of them were information specialist, or scientists. She never missed Ratchet’s presence more.

“I can,” Optimus said, already stepping up to the terminal. It was easy enough for her to forget that had been his trade before. Incoming and outgoing data. Cataloging it all.

“Think they are still in orbit, Bossbot?” Bulkhead asked, shifting nervously.

“We’ll see.”

Optimus worked at the console but for the longest time there was no sign that anything had changed.Finally however there came a faint and slightly garbled reply.

“-ion, identify yourself. This is the Axiom, last station identify yourself.”

“Greetings Axiom. This is Optimus Prime. I am pleased to hear from you.”

“Optimus Prime? We had heard you were offline. We are sending a shuttle to your location. Stand by for retrieval.”

“ETA?” Optimus said calmly.

“One groon.”

“Standing by.” He said, cutting the transmission.

“Is it too much to hope that they have the kids?” Arcee said, shifting uneasily behind Optimus, hope in her voice.

“We have no proof of that yet,” Optimus said cautiously.

“Maybe they know what happened to them though, maybe Smokey knows,” Bumblebee piped up.

“That is a more likely prospect. We will have to restrain our curiosity until we are able to ask when we go aboard.”

“Understood Optimus. We still need to find out what happened to Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus as well as Ratchet.”

Optimus nodded, “More than likely Ratchet is still being held prisoner about the Nemesis. The Decepticons have too great a need for medics to offline Ratchet.”

Bulkhead punched a fist against his palm, “Don’t worry Prime. We’ll get him out.”

Optimus nodded, “We will, have no doubt.”

They sat down to wait for the shuttle, huddled together in the middle of the bunker. Arcee could not imagine they ever looked more pitiful. The groon ticked by slowly, and when they heard the telltale sound of the shuttle approaching they all rushed outside, weapons drawn.

They stopped, watching the craft land, and did not put their weapons away until the bay doors opened, and a familiar figure strode out, “Prime? Ah didn’t think these optics would ever see yah again.” 

“Ironhide?” 

The mech grinned and walked over to where Optimus stood. “Well someone had to make sure it was really you. That mech Prowl brought back was talking about how you and half your team was offline. Poor mech, must have freaked out during the battle.”

“It is good to see you, Ironhide. I see you changed your paintjob.”

“Yeah, Got tired of people thinking I am my little brother. Where is Cliffjumper? He is assigned to your unit still right?”

“He was. “

Ironhide stilled, “Was?” 

Team Prime exchanged a glance before Optimus said, “He---he was captured by Starscream, and I am afraid he did not survive the encounter, Hide. I am so sorry.”

Iron his nodded ducking his helm to hide the hurt, “It’s war. These things happen. I’m sure you did all you could for him Prime.”

“We did. I’m sorry, old friend,” Optimus said, moving forward and gripping Ironhide’s shoulder.

Ironhide paused for a long moment before he was able to regain his composure. “Were you able to take out Starscream?”

Arcee moved forward, “We damaged him, but he is still online last we saw.”

Ironhide nodded, “Good. I want to be the one to avenge my little brother.”

Optimus opened his mouth to admonish Ironhide, but thought better of it. Ironhide was never one to listen to reason, and nothing the Prime could say would dissuade him from that course. “As you say, my friend. Are you ready for departure?”

“Yeah, com’on, Prowl will be gnawing at the bit to get you up to speed. The Axiom is in orbit. We are waiting on the rest of the fleet to get into the system.”

“Fleet?” Arcee asked, blinking. “We have a fleet?”

“Indeed we do. We have six dreadnought class ships: the Axiom, the Hyperion, the Pale Fire, the Thunder Arrow, the Valiant, and the Iron Hope. Prowl has set up his headquarters on the Axiom. Aside from the dreadnoughts there are about a dozen cruisers, plus ten frigates. Add in the shuttles and smaller crafts about the larger vessels, we are well armed and equipped.”

Optimus looked at Ironhide in surprise. “So many? Where have all these ships come from?”

Ironhide smirked, “They are mostly Con ships, taken over and refurbished. You might say we took a card from the Star Seekers.”

Optimus blinked at him, “This was Prowl’s idea?” 

“Yeah, you could say that sir. He got the Axiom and the Hyperion in operational order. The rest kinda fell into place. Perish the thought of our tactician ever turning his processor to evil. He woulda made one pit of a pirate.”

Optimus shook his helm, rendered speechless again. 

Bulkhead laughed, “Can you imagine Prowl, Mr. By-the-regs, turing pirate? It would be like Ultra Magnus doing it.”

Bumblebee laughed as well. “It would be pretty funny, Bulkhead.”

Ironhide stared at Bumblebee in shock. “Bee! You can talk again! Holy Primus! That is wonderful! Ratchet did a great job getting them finally fixed!”

Bee looked away, “Ratchet tried for vorns to get them fixed. He..he is not the one who repaired them though.”

Ironhide’s face shifted to confusion, “Then who fixed them?”

“I don’t know.”

Team Prime exchanged a long and uncomfortable look, before Prime finally answered for them, “Ironhide...Smokescreen was not wrong. He wasn’t hysterical from the battle. He did see us fall. We...I think we need to speak to the command first. It is a long and complicated story.”

Ironhide frowned, not liking all of the hedging, “Yeah, lets go then,” he turned walking up into the shuttle. “They will be gathered together by the time we get up there.” 

They followed him, finding their seats as they made their way inside.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Ratchet looked up when he heard the sound of peds approaching his cell. He felt as though his spark stopped pulsing when he saw Rafael being led to his cell by Soundwave instead of Knock Out. He at once feared the worst, that Soundwave had wiped the poor mechlings mind and personality as Knock Out had demanded when he last saw them.

Poor Rafael.

He became confused when Soundwave opened the cell and gently nudged Raf inside. “Soundwave! What are you doing with him!”

As soon as Raf was close enough, Ratchet tucked him behind himself so he stood between Raf and the Con.

“Ratchet,” Rafael said from behind him, sounding exasperated, “He’s not doing anything to me. He wants you to teach me.”

“Soundwave: will never hurt mechling. Weld: his charge,” Soundwave said, his normally monotone taking on an exasperated note. “Ratchet: tutor mechlet. Medical knowledge: needed.”

Ratchet cycled his optics, and reboot his audials twice thinking he had surely misheard. “What about Knock Out?”

“Knock Out: improper caretaker for youngling. Abused position. Soundwave: will not tolerate behavior.”

Ratchet kept Raf behind him, “Ha! If you did not tolerate that kind of behavior why did you allow it to go on for so long?”

Soundwave did not move, “Soundwave: unable to act. Lord Megatron: orders. Soundwave: not to interfere with new mechs.”

Ratchet kept a wary optic on Soundwave as he turned towards Raf slightly. “Rafael, how damaged are you?”

Rafael blinked at him, “I’m fine. Soundwave repaired what damage Knock Out did. Or he tried to. I helped, but I think you might want to check my work over. Knock Out only showed me what he absolutely had to, and I’m not sure I did that great of a job.”

Ratchet took a step back, and looked Rafael up and down, noting the new panel covering his interface equipment. The youngling DID look better than he had in weeks. “Fine,” his optics flitted over to the large mech, “can we go to the medbay?” 

Soundwave nodded, “Auxiliary medbay: clear. Never used by Knock Out.” 

Ratchet nodded, “Good. I get my servos on that mech-”

“Medic: attack Knock Out. Medic: unable to teach mechlet.”

Ratchet frowned at Soundwave. Frag him for ruining his plans. Rafael was more important than revenge though and he would take care of the mechlet as much as he could. He did not trust Soundwave but he was admittedly better than Knock Out.

“Fine, lead the way then,” Ratchet said, his frown turning into a full out glare.

“Medic: follow.” Soundwave said, turning and leading the further into the depths of the Nemesis. Ratchet stared, memorizing the route incase they might need to use it later. He frowned as Rafael inched up until he was walking beside Soundwave, and took one of the mech’s spindly hands into his own. It hurt Ratchet’s spark to see Rafael to give his trust to that mech. 

What had the mech down to the poor mechling? No doubt he slipped something into Raf’s mind to make him trust the mech. Poor Rafael. At least he was no longer suffering at the depraved servos of Knock Out.

No mechlet should be made to endure such things.

At least in that much could he and Soundwave agree. Anyone who hurt a mechlet like that was the lowest of slag ever onlined.

They made it to the Auxillary Medbay, down in the depths of the Vehicons habitation suites after what seemed an eternity of walking. Rafael held on to Soundwave nearly the whole way. He didn’t flinch away from the mech as he did nearly everyone else. He felt both worried and relieved about it at the same time. Ratchet should be that mech. 

The mdbay itself was small, much smaller than the main medbay, but most of the equipment was untouched, some still in it’s packaging.

“Ratchet: find equipment sufficient?” 

“Mmm, what? Yes, yes it is fine.”

Soundwave let go of Rafael’s servo and knelt in front of him, “Soundwave: return in 8 groons. Weld: study. Learn. Observe.”

Rafael nodded and when Soundwave exited, Ratchet heard the door lock and seal behind him. before he could move, he was suddenly grabbed in a hug by Rafael. “Ratchet! I missed you so much! It...It was terrible!”

Ratchet hugged the mechlet back, rubbing between his winglets, “I missed you too, Raf. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”  
Raf’s let out a little hiccup, and it took him a moment to realize that the mechling was sobbing silently. “My mama and all of my brothers are gone, Ratchet. All of them. It hurts so much, and...and...I feel so...so dirty.”

Ratchet sighed, hugging Rafael all the tighter for it, simply letting him talk and get it all out.

Rafael held onto him and wept. “He...he just kept touching me! And making me do...those things. I didn’t want to Ratchet! I didn’t want to! He made me! It hurt so much! Why did he hurt me Ratchet? Why would anyone do that to someone?”

“I don’t know Rafael. I don’t know. Some mechs are just bad. I am so sorry you had to go through that. But it is not your fault. You should not feel guilty or dirty, you are not to blame.”

“I know...that is what Soundwave says. But it’s hard not to. It hurts.” 

Ratchet didn’t know how to take it, so he ignored the comment about Soundwave, “It will take time. Just know you have those that care for you. I wish I could have sheltered you from this. I wish that more than anything.” 

Rafael sighed, “Thank you. I love you too, Ratch.” 

Ratchet smiled as Rafael burrowed against his side and pulled him into a tight hug. “I love you too Rafael.”

Ratchet returned the hug carefully, not wanting to crowd the already traumatized mechlet. Poor Rafael. He was so very young to have suffered so much. They stayed like that for a long moment before Rafael pulled back. “Guess you had better teach me something, so I can keep coming back each sol.”

“Yes, I had better,” Ratchet said, and looked thoughtful. “Let me see,” he turned, opening cabinets until he found one that contained a stacks of datapads. “There should be a couple here with the basic packets. They will not make up for experience, but they will give you a framework to work with. Far better than anything that quack would teach you.”

Raf sat back, watching Ratchet pull out more datapads. “S-should I start on the first one?” 

Ratchet put a comforting servo on Rafael’s shoulder. “We will go over it together. Feel free to ask any questions that you might have. That is what I am here for.”

Rafael gave him a small smile, “Alright. Thank you Ratchet. Which one do we start with?”

Ratchet pulled out a datapad, “Let’s start with Cybertronian Anatomy. This is just a general overview. We will get to individual frame types later on.”

Ratchet took the pad from him and showed him how to jack into the tablet. “It will ping you with an information packet. Once they download, you can begin the lesson.” 

Raf did as he instructed, gasping as the information packet settled into his meta. “That felt...odd,” he murmured, wide optic.

Ratchet smiled, “You will get used to it.”

“I---I guess,” Raf said as he started going through the lesson on the datapad.

“Now, the first part of the pad should be a listing of what the pad is going to cover as well as an overview of the program. The download will contain further explanations as well basic notations and diagrams that you can pull up on your HUD.”

Rafael nodded, seemingly more at ease with the idea and the pad. “I see it. This is amazing!”

“Are you having any issues with reading the glyphs?”

“Not really.I seemed to pick them up pretty easily. I think it was because you taught me before.”

Ratchet made a humming noise, “Perhaps. You always had an aptitude for such things.”

Raf ducked his helm, “I---yes I guess I did.” He moved through the lesson with a speed that did not surprise Ratchet in the least. 

“Do you have any questions so far?”

Raf shook his head, “It’s pretty straightforward.” 

“I am impressed. There were many Cybertronians who did not take to these programs so easily.”

“Really?” Rafael looked stunned and pleased.

“Really. I can tell you will be a great medic, Rafael.” 

“Thank you for that, Ratchet. I doubt I will be great medic but I hope to at least be a good one.”


	3. Chapter 3

Smokescreen’s doorwings drooped as he stepped out of the psychiatrists office. He wasn’t sure he liked Rung as all, nor was he entirely sure that he was not mad at Prowl for setting him up like this.

He was sound wound up in his own thoughts that he nearly ran into a mech that was hurrying down the hall. He startled, doorwings fluttering and was surprised the other mech did much the same thing.

“Oh, you must be Smokescreen. Prowl sent me to fetch you. Prime’s here, they are alive, and Prowl wants to speak to you.”

Smokescreen stared at the other Praxian, entranced by the fluttering of the other mech’s doorwings. “Oh, yeah...wait, What? They found them?” 

“Had you not heard? They contacted the Axiom from the same location you did. From what I have heard, Ironhide confirmed their identities. They should be arriving soon.”

Smokescreen could hardly believe it. He had thought they had all been deactivated. He was never happier to be wrong about something. 

“Wow, that is some of the best news I’ve had all year. They are really okay?” Smokescreen said, staring at the mech, and his pretty, pretty doorwings.

“Seems so. Com’on, you’d better come with me. Prowl is not a mech you want to leave waiting.” 

“Mmmm....right, I guess not,” he said, optics flitting back to the mech’s faceplates. “What’s your name, anyway?”

The mech look startled by the question, “Oh, I’m Streetwise.” His lips curled into a cheeky little smile.

Smokescreen stared at the mech dazedly. He was not sure what it was, but the mech had some very attractive doorwings. They were so …..hot. Sexy.

He blushed when he realized that he was staring at Streetwise like an idiot. “Oh, ah, I’m Smokescreen. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Streetwise smiled again and Smokescreen felt his spark pulse a bit harder. “Follow me Smokey. I’ll take you to meet your comrades.”

“Thank you, I---ah---really appreciate it,” he said, and felt his cheek plating heat up until he was fairly sure it was burning hot.

“You're welcome,” he said, leading Smokescreen through the halls.

Smokescreen followed behind, optics fixed on those pretty doorwings. They sent his own fluttering, and his spark skittering. He was glad the mech’s back was turned, there was no telling what his own doorwings were saying in wing language.

At last they reached the rooms where the rest of his team were being brought to. He saw Prowl by the doors and moved towards him. Prowl looked over at him and Streetwise. “Ah Streetwise. I see you found Smokescreen. Thank you for bringing my brother here.”

Streetwise seemed startled by that, looking at him in surprise. “You are Prowl’s brother? I would never have guessed.”

Smokescreen felt himself blushing and his doorwings fluttering like mad behind him. Primus this was so embarrassing. 

Prowl looked at him hard, brows raising, “He is indeed, perhaps that is something we can discuss later,” he added, optics flicking between Smokescreen and Streetwise. His lips curled into an amused smile, one that Smokescreen knew very well. his brother was planning something.

He did not know whether to be amused or horrified. “Streetwise said Team Prime was on it’s way here. Are they really alive? Really?” 

“It would seem so,” Prowl said.

Smokescreen looked at his brother, “I wasn’t lying I thought they were offline! I saw them fall! I would swear that they were all offlined.”

Prowl moved forward but Streetwise put a servo on Smokescreen’s shoulder. “I am sure your brother knows that you would not leave you team behind if you thought they were alive.”

Prowl nodded, “Indeed.”

Smokescreen smiled when Jazz snuck under Prowl’s arm and snuggled against his side. Jazz also looked at him and Streetwise curiously before grinning for some reason. It was odd, and unnerving.

Smokescreen squirmed under the smaller black and white’s regard, not entirely understanding why the mech’s smirk grew. He didn’t know what was up with either mech, but it left him feeling uneasy.

“Ah am sure there’s an explanation, Smokey. Don’t worry,” Jazz said, his facial expressions taking on a mischievous glint. “Why don’t you come with us while we go to greet the ship,” he said, nodding to Streetwise who looked equally alarmed by Jazz’s sudden attention.

“If that is your wish, commander,” Streetwise said, shifting and looking uncomfortable.

“Ah do. Smokey needs someone ta watch him. Prowler and ah got to stay for tha debrief but if Smokey needs a break, yah can take him.”

Streetwise gave Smokescreen a worried look. “I would be glad to help. I can understand this must be very hard for him. Do you mind if I come along, Smokescreen?”

Smokescreen had gotten distracted watching Streetwise’s wings again. They were just so pretty. It took him a minute to catch what Streetwise had said and answer, “Oh! Yes! I mean would appreciate that a lot.” His cheekplates flushed hot again, and he shift from side to side. “I would---ah---yeah---thank you.” 

Streetwise watched him, looking amused. “I’m just glad to help,” he said, his optics flicked up to Prowl, and a smile curled onto his face as if he just understood something. “I would be very, very happy to help.”

Smokescreen blinked, and wondered what he was missing, or if all of the mechs here had gone completely mad. Streetwise’s wings were distracting though, and he lost his train of thought as he found himself staring again.

Those wings were just so optic catching. They were nice broad panels, with good detailing. Both sets were well polished and were held in a nice sweeping angle to frame the mech they were attached to. Mmm. They were just so handsome.

He found himself blushing again when he found not just Streetwise but Prowl and Jazz watching him. He did not know what was coming over him like this. “So, um, where do we need to go, Prowl?”

“The same room we were in before. You, and Streetwise, will be closer to the doors in case you need to leave for any reason.”

Prowl turned, not waiting to see if they were following. Smokescreen found himself herded towards the room they were in before, Streetwise’s hand settled between his doorwings. It was a warm weight that left his system running hot. He only barely kept his engines from revving loudly.

There were other mechs already in the room once they reached it. Most Smokescreen did not recognize. They stayed towards the door, Streetwise staying close, his hand moving along Smokescreen’s doorwings, blocked from the view of the rest of the room.

Smokescreen swallowed a moan back as Streetwise slowly moved a servo along his wings, leaving them trembling along with the rest of them. He had never felt anything like this before!

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Nothing like this had been mentioned before to him. His frame felt weird and tingly in odd places and his armor felt too tight in places. He didn’t want to, but he was going to have to go talk to First Aid or one of the medics about his odd sensations. It could be the start of a glitch. He had been warned they could form since he was put into his adult frame too early.

Streetwise’s fingers did not stop their movement, skittering over Smokescreen’s smaller doorwings, plucking over them until Smokescreen was forced to offline his vocalizer or moan loudly. He was so wrapped up in the sensation that he could not follow the conversation in the room. His insides felt odd, clenching in ways they had never done before. It was alarming and a little bit scary. He had to be glitching.

He was more than a little glassy opticed by the time Team Prime came into the room, looking no worse for wear.

He froze as he saw mechs that he had seen fallen and grey walked in as though nothing had been wrong. Was he going mad? Had he hallucinated the whole thing? He did not know what to think at this point.

“Optimus! If you and your team will sit we will begin the debriefing. To begin with, we had had reports of your demise. We are happy to see it is not true.”

Smokescreen saw Optimus look at him and he felt a surge of remorse. Why had he not stayed! He had abandoned his team! He was a coward. 

“It was not inaccurate. We all...fell in battle. I believe we were brought back when the planet was Cyberformed. Our chassis were repaired and our sparks reignited...as far as we can tell,” Optimus said slowly. “So, no...reports of our demise were not inaccurate.”

Smokescreen listened, trembling even after Streetwise’d hand stilled.

“It is good to see you, Smokescreen,” Optimus said, turning his optics to the young mech. 

“I---Optimus.” 

He did not know what to say.He felt optical lubricants leak down his faceplates, “Optimus! I am so sorry! I should have stayed and fought! Maybe if I had helped more than you would not have fallen. And Magus and Wheeljack would be here and not on the Nemesis!”

He broke off, not wanting to talk about the next part. “All I managed to do was clean up the base and bury the humans. So many of the poor humans. It was terrible Optimus. They started to change to Cybertronians but did not survive the process. It was like they were stuck halfway.” His voice rose, “And they have Miko, Jack and Rafael. They took them. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault, Smokescreen,” Optimus said in that calm voice of his. “You did the best that you could, and you survived.”

Smokescreen bit back a sob, shoulders hunched. Above his head Prowl met Streetwise’s gaze and the other Praxian put a hand on Smokescreen’s arm, leading him out of the room before he could become any more distraught.

“Come along Smokescreen, lets get you out of here,” Streetwise whispered, not entirely surprised at the way Smokescreen clung to him.

Smokescreen couldn’t even reply. He just sobbed and allowed himself to be led back to the med-bay. He felt so confused inside and had no idea what he was supposed to do about any of it.

When they walked into the med-bay, First Aid looked up surprised when he saw Streetwise walk in but the surprise changed quickly to concern when he saw Smokescreen. “‘Wise! What happened? Is he okay? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. Prowl wanted him there when they brought Optimus and his crew in. He didn’t take it so well.” He held onto Smokescreen, rubbing his doorwings. “Would it be possible to sedate him?”

“I am not sure that is wise. he needs to get it out of his system. Knocking him out every time he is upset will only compound the problem,” First Aid said, watching his brother with a glint of suspicion in his optics.

“True enough. I don’t think he should be alone though.”

“I agree, it would not be a good idea for him to be alone. If you want to sit with him, I will comm Hot Spot and ask him to let our brothers know where you are and that you might not be in tonight.”

Streetwise looked at First Aid in surprise. “That bad?”

First Aid nodded, “If you know what to look for. Plus you keep leaking into the gestalt. Easy to know what you are feeling when I feel it too.”

Streetwise looked away, wings hitching up in a defensive position as he helped Smokescreen onto one of the berths, and pulled up a chair beside him. The young mech still clung to him, optics shut tight.

His doorwings flared out protectively, and he didn’t have to look at First Aid to know that his brother was amused by his actions. he could feel it through the gestalt bond. Even if they did not possess the traditional Praxian frame as he did, they were Praxian all the same.

Soon Smokescreen’s vents evened out, and his system quieted as he fell into recharge. 

“Will you court him then?” First Aid asked, breaking the silence that had settled over the medbay.

“Aid, I just met him. I don’t know him at all really.” 

“That does not mean that you do not want to get to know him. I am not saying you have to bond to him this klik but I can tell you like him so court him until you are sure. It is not like you to be so fixated on a mech like this.”

“You are right, Aid. I don’t know what it is but I feel drawn to him and want to protect him”

Aid gave him a worried look, “You...you do know he is young right?”

“Well, I figured. He felt young, I mean...his field did.” 

First Aid shook his head, “He shouldn't be upgraded yet. Not in his adult frame. He is barely a vorn older than Hot Rod.” 

“He is a...youngling. I can’t be involved with someone that is---he is---”

“Already in his adult frame, and there is no way for us to get back for him what he has lost. I think he does need someone, and badly. Just take things slow. Get to know him.” 

Streetwise nodded, looking stunned. “I will. I---I don’t know, Aid.” 

Aid put a servo on his shoulder, “It is alright. You said Prowl is the one that had you watch Smokescreen, did you not?”

Streetwise looked at him, tilting his helm to one side curiously. “Yeah, he did? So what?”

Aid laughed, “Then you are safe on that front. Prowl would never have left you alone with Smokescreen if he did not approve and trust you.”

Streetwise’s optics widened, “I never thought of that. It has been so....long since we had to deal with Praxian mores.”

First Aid snorted, “Our creators would be disappointed at how much we have forgotten, But I know that would approve of such a match...and if Prowl does, well...one less worry.”

Streetwise squirmed at the thought, “You really think...that Prowl is fine with...frag...I don’t know.” 

First Aid chuckled, watching his brother become more and more flustered.

“I don't’ think, I know. I saw how protective of him Prowl was when he was picked up from the planet’s surface. Prowl watched that young mech like a laserhawk. He must trust you if he is leaving you with him. I could always send the rest of our brothers to see what the mech thinks of you and Smokey.”

“I---could you?” Streetwise said, faceplates heating up in a way that First aid could not ever remember them doing so.

“Not a problem, Streetwise. I will have Hot Spot and Groove go see Prowl. Blades likes to mess with him too much be of much help.”

Streetwise looked at his brother, “Thank you, Aid.”

Streetwise looked back at the younger Praxian in his arms, “I never felt like this before.”

“Just take it very slow, Streetwise. He is Prowl’s sparkling brother, so be very careful.”

“I will. How can I do otherwise?” the light in his optics softened as he looked down on the young mech. He had never encountered anyone that tugged at his spark like this, and so soon after meeting him. He wanted to get to know Smokescreen, and more importantly he wanted to protect him. It stung his spark to think of someone so very young going through all that Smokescreen had. “He’s clearly special. I know a lot of old mechs that would not have handled what he has as well as he has.” 

First Aid nodded, content to just listen. It seemed to be what Streetwise needed more than anything.

OoOoOoOo

Flamewar whimpered, moving from side to side to try to ease the pain. It had started several groons ago, and she thought it was just a passing thing. She had had twinges before, but this was different. It did not go away, if anything the pain flared brighter, wracking her system in steady waves. A whine escaped her vocalizer. 

Her mate moved to her side at the whimper, “Flamewar? Little one? What is wrong? Are you in pain?”

She moaned and nuzzled her mate’s muzzle as he worriedly looked her over. “Something hurts. I don’t know what to do.”

Her words seemed to set her mate off. “You are in pain?! I will get a medic! The Autobot one! I do not trust Knock Out! Imagine him wanting you altered. Never!”

She laughed a little between rounds of pain, “No medic. Not yet. The pain comes and goes.”

Predaking nuzzled along her frame, giving a few loving licks along her distended abdomen where the bulge from her eggs had grown heavy and large. It nearly touched the ground in her predacon form now.

She lidded her optics, riding the pain, nearly panting as it finally passed. She could feel the eggs began to shift, this at least was not painful, merely a very odd situation. She shifted again, trying to relieve the building pressure as they pressed down. “Soon though. I think soon.” 

“Soon?” 

“The eggs are coming.” His head reared up, and the shocked expression on his faceplates did make Flamewar laugh in spite of herself, “You did not realize they would eventually come out?”

“I must get the medic,” He said, a tone of panic entering his voice like a rising tide. “I---Oh---I can’t leave you. I can’t comm him to come here. I have to leave.” 

“Vent before you combust.”

She had to laugh as her mate tried to invent and ex-vent at the same time and nearly swallowed a blast of plasma fire. When he seemed calmer, she nuzzled him gently, “You will have time to get the medic, help me onto my peds now. I hate lying here, I want to move around even if it is just in circles.”

At once, her mate was beside her and was helping leverage her ungainly frame back onto it’s peds. She hated how clumsy she had gotten. She began to pace around the small room, occasionally stopping to adjust the nest a little so it was perfect.

Predaking fretted as he watched her pace. The more she paced the more fretful he became, in fact. He fidgeted, moving from ped to ped, and shot to his feet, moving to her side any time she wobbled.

“It will be fine,” she said, trying to reassure him. “I won’t be the first or the last Predacon to bear eggs.”

“My mate---”

“Shhhh...calm down,” she said resuming her strides across the room. She made a circle inside the nest, testing it’s softness. It was nearly perfect. Her eggs would settle well here. She could tell.

She settled down over the nest, her instincts letting her know that the time for her eggs to emerge would be soon. She knew she had to be ready and in position for the eggs to land in the nest safely. She could not wait to have them out of her.

Predaking hurried over and she nuzzled his muzzle when he was close enough to reach. “It will not be long now, my mate. Our eggs will emerge soon I think.”

That of course, set Predaking off into another panic attack and she laughed as he ran out the door, apparently deciding that ‘yes’ she needed a medic right that klik. Her mate was so silly at times.

She closed her optics, and knew he would return soon with Ratchet in tow. It was probably a good thing. It would be soon. Very soon. They shifted position again, pressing down on her insides. She could feel the transformation sequence starting. It was a slow process, and it felt odd as her insides shifted around, clearing the way for her eggs passage.

She concentrated on the feeling, riding out a wave of pain.

Soon she was crouched over her nest, squatting with her tail lifted and swing to one side. She could tell she was close to laying these eggs. She was ready to go back to her normal frame and not be so heavy any more.

It made moving at all a pain, and the further along in her carrying she went it even became uncomfortable for her mate to frag her. She missed their rough frags. Her mate had a fine spike but had been unable to spike her for the last decacycle since she could not find a comfortable position, and even transforming was completely out of the question. It was unfortunate. She wanted the bitlets so very badly, but this whole experience she could do without.

She heard a racket in the hallway, and was not surprised when her mate came in, dragging a cursing Ratchet. She narrowed her optics, knowing he had not even explained what was going on to the medic, merely grabbed him in a panic and took off back to the nest.

“---ragging beast, let me go. You slag face,” Ratchet bellowed as he was pushed through the door, and nudged by Predaking’s snout hard enough that he stumbled and fell onto the floor before the nest.

She looked down at him and rumbled in amusement before it changed into a muffle moan as another pulse of pain moved through her. She panted once it had passed and saw the mech staring at her in shock.

Her mate moved behind the mech and growled, “Help my mate, medic or I will fry your circuits and use your wires to line our nest.”

The mech got back onto his peds and slowly moved towards her. “M-miko?”

Flamewar moaned lowly, “It hurts.”

Ratchet watched, stunned Flamewar could clearly see. “I--yes--hold on.” He reached into his subspace pulling out his medical supplies, and finally jacking into her system.

Predaking growled loudly, “What are you doing? You will not hurt my mate. I will offline you. Stop touching her.”

“I can’t help her if I can’t touch her,” Ratchet snapped back. “Stupid glitch.” He shook his head, and pointedly ignored the way Predaking bristled. “I can dampen the pain, taking it completely away may not be an option at this point.” 

Her mate roared and knocked the medic back onto the ground, “Make her stop hurting now!”

Ratchet slowly got to his peds. “If you had brought me here when her labor pains began, I could have, instead you waited until she is about to clutch her eggs. Now it is too late! She is in deep labor and the code would not have enough time to block her pain.”

She cried out as a more painful throb than before shot through her. She could feel the sensation of an egg moving down her channel. Primus this hurt!

Ratchet drew near again, ignoring Predaking. He jacked back in, looking at the screen on the datapad, and did what he could to at least dull the pain.

Flamewar panted, bearing down as the first egg started to slide free. Her insides convulsed trying to push it out.

Ratchet moved closer, his hand reaching out to touch her, and his field doing the same. It was cool and soothing, like a balm. It did more to calm her than anything.

The pain redoubled as a contraction rippled through her, and the first egg slid out, landing on the soft nest. She panted, letting her optics fall closed in exhaustion.

Her mate nuzzled her anxiously and then turned towards the little egg in the nest, giving it a loving lick. She nuzzled him and looked at the egg. It seemed so small for something that had hurt so much. She groaned as she felt the process begin again and resumed her squat over to nest as a second and then a third egg slid out.

Ratchet scanned her as she panted afterwards. “Do you think you could manage to drink any coolant? You are running very warm at the moment.”

She shook her helm. Nothing sounded worth the effort of getting down. She just wanted to rest and have these eggs out of her.

“I can run an IV if that would be better,” Ratchet finally said. She could tell he was trying to keep the worry from his voice.

She only nodded, to drained to do anything else. She closed her optics, as she felt him get to work, and did not even flinch at the prick in her main coolant line. She felt cold as the coolant rushed into her system. It felt...wonderful. 

“You are doing very good,” Ratchet said, patting her heaving side as he scanned her again and read through the readings.

“You are doing very well,” Ratchet said looking up from his pad, “You have about four or five more to go.”

Flamewar looked at him in horror. She was barely half done? She moaned and then crouched over her nest again as more eggs slid out. One, then a second and third.

She panted. There were six eggs so far. Just two more. Just two.

Her mate nuzzled her worriedly and licked along her jaw. “Are you alright my mate?”

“Do I look like I’m alright?” she asked in exasperation. There was a temptation to growl and lash out, but she did not. She was too busy riding out the next contraction. It hurt. Hurt more than anything she ever felt. Egg seven finally settled in the nest, and it gave her a moment of breathing room.

She vented hard, panting, almost. So close. So very close, and it would be over soon.

She shifted on her nest and moaned as she felt another egg. This should be the last one. She grunted as she felt her internals clench and shift as she forced the final egg out. Only it was not the final egg. A second and then a third slid out and settled on the nest with the others. She panted and flopped on top of the nest, her wings spreading to cover the nest from other’s optics. She moaned as another series of contractions made themselves known and one by one, three more eggs gently landed in the nest.

Her mate nuzzled her worriedly, “Flamewar? Are you alright?”

She shifted tiredly, and nuzzled him back. “I am alright. I am just very tired.”  
Her mate licked along her jaw before turning to the medic and growled, “Check my mate, medic as well as our eggs.”

Ratchet grumbled and rolled his optics, first scanning Miko, and then each of the eggs in turn. They were far smaller than he had imagined, and all in different shades of silver, they gained colour by the moment. It was odd to see, nearly like a new protoform gaining colour only so much faster.

“They all seem healthy,” he murmured, giving them a more thorough examination.

“Of course they are,” said Predaking gruffly, his chest puffing out. Ratchet rolled his optics again at that display.

“Right,” Ratchet said, turning his attention back to Miko. “How are you feeling?”

She huffed, why did they keep asking the same question? “I am tired, but fine. Can you let me rest?”

Ratchet sighed, “Try to drink a cube of fuel before you rest. You will need to have more fuel in you after laying the eggs. You will need the energy after all you had to do.”

Her mate rumbled, “I will bring her fuel, medic. Come, the Eradicons are coming to take you back to your cell.”

She watched as the medic was pushed out the door, into the arms of Eradicons who blatantly stared in at her. She shifted so her eggs were hidden from sight. A larger figure blocked the doorway, crimson optics fastening on her. She could not help the growl the rose up from deep in her frame as Megatron entered the room. He was far too close to her nest, to her eggs.

Her mate, traitor that he was bowed deeply, “My lord.”

“Predaking. I see that congratulations are in order. You have brought many new warriors to our cause.” 

“In time my lord, they have not even hatched yet.” 

“Hatched? Then it is true that Predacons emerge from eggs? Interesting. How soon will your...mate be able to produce more?”

Her mate seemed taken aback by Megatron’s brusque words, “My lord? My mate has just clutched? It will take at least until the eggs have hatched, possibly until the hatchlings are somewhat grown before we can clutch again.”

Megatron did not seem pleased by this. “Well at least she can produce more than one at time. How many did she lay?”

Her mate shot her a look, as though unsure why Megatron did not ask her himself, “Show our lord our clutch, Flamewar.”

The rumbling growl that had threatened to burst from her chest did. She flattened herself over the eggs, hissing and spitting plasma fire. “I will not. He means them harm,” she hissed again, her optics narrowing dangerously. “I do not want him here. Get him away.” 

Crimson optics drilled into her, the grey mech looming. “Predaking, move her.” 

“My lord...I am not sure that is wise.” 

“I ordered you to move her, Predaking. Now do so before I remove the problem my way.” Megatron’s cannon began to charge and she hunkered down lower in her nest. He would not get her eggs!

Her mate moved between her and the cannon, “You must move, Flamewar. Just move back enough that our lord may see our egg and offer his blessings on them.”

She hissed at her mate! Was he mad?! Let a mech who was not clan near eggs so newly laid?! Her mate nudged her back and before she realized what he was doing, she was wrapped in a great wing and dragged slightly off her nest! How dare he!

A squealing noise left her throat as she was dragged farther away until she was clear of the nest. She struggled against Predaking, arching and wiggling not unlike an angry snake, but Predaking kept a grip on her. She hissed angrily as Megatron bent over the eggs, and reached out touching them one at a time. It was unpardonable. Unacceptable.

“They all look differently,” the monster said, lifting one egg up from the nest. A bright red one. He ran his claws over it.

“She trembled in rage at the sight of a strange mech handling her eggs. He was going to take them or smash them! She just knew it!

She lashed out at her mate, biting and clawing at the wing that trapping her. She had to get free and protect their eggs if her own mate betrayed her like this! Traitor! Fiend! She would make him regret his deceit!

Megatron watched her thrash about, she could feel those red optics on her, if anything that only served to enrage her further. He kept a hold of the red egg, holding it close to his chassis and seemed unlikely to let it go. her treacherous mate did nothing to to get their egg back, said nothing when Megatron stepped back, taking the egg with him.

“Put it back, put my egg back,” it turned into a whimper as Predaking used his weight to press her down to the floor.

“You need to learn to control your slave, Predaking. Her behaviour is unacceptable.” 

“....Yes, my lord. My lord, where are you taking my egg? She will calm when her nest is restored. Femme predacons are very protective of their nests and eggs.”

Her mate flicked his tail against her, trying calm her with it as moved it soothingly against her side. She could not calm down though! Megatron had taken an egg!

He had stolen one of her hatchlings!

And her mate was allowing it to happen! She mewled at the sight of her egg in Megatron’s servos.

“There are many hatchlings, she will not miss one. I will raise it as my own,” Megatron said, stroking the egg’s shiny exterior.

“My lord...they need to be kept warm,” Predaking tried, his voice quavering.

“Egg thief, give me back my bitlet,” Flamewar wailed, her struggles renewed. She knew it. He mean her eggs harm. He would never give it back. She thrashed, claws digging ruts into the floor as she struggled to break free. 

“Learn to control her, or I will find someone more...suited to control her.”

Her mate stilled and drew her closer. “My lord, no! Please! She is merely upset to lose one of her eggs.”

She wanted to break free and savage the egg thief! Her mate held her tight though and she could feel his wing wrap tighter around her so she couldn’t move at all. How could her mate do this to her? She had to protect her nest!

Megaton looked at her, “Very well. You would do well to train her better, Predaking, so she respects her betters.”

“Yes, my lord.”

With that Megatron turned and left, carrying her egg away!

The door shut behind him, and finally when the sound of pedsteps faded her mate let her go. She cried out, scrambling to her nest and let out a mournful keen at the loss of her little one. “How could you,” she said, turning to him as she gathered the remaining eggs to her. “HOW could you. You gave him one of our little ones.” 

“My mate...you must understand...”

“There is nothing to understand. Traitor,” she hissed.

“Little one...please.” 

“Do not speak to me. You are no mate of mine. I hate you. I hate you. Traitor.” 

“Little one, please! You don’t-”

“Get away from my nest, thief! You will steal no more eggs for your master!”

Her mate looked at her helplessly. “He would have slain you or given you to another to be their mate. What would you have had me do?”

“You should have been a true sire and not allowed one of my sparklings to be stolen!” She shifted the remaining eggs in the nest and settled herself on top of them, tucking her wings in and curling her tail about herself so the eggs were hidden. “Leave us be, traitor!”

A whimper left his vocalizer, “I could not lose you. I cannot. It would be like losing part of my own spark. Please do not be this way. My spark aches as well. But I could not---could not let him off line you. Please try to understand.”

Her hackles rose, “Do not try to manipulate me. I am not some stupid, mindless drone.”

He sluncked towards he, belly pressed to the floor, wings down, “I would not, my mate. Please don’t do this. Please.” 

She hissed as he drew closer and her crest rose as she growled deeply in her small chest. “You betrayed me! Worse! You betrayed our hatchlings! Traitor! Liar! Betrayer! You are no mate of mine!”

Predaking moved closer, “If I could I would get our egg back, but it would cost my life to do so. It will be well taken care of with Lord Megatron. Take some comfort of that.”

“The only comfort I could find, would be if I had all my eggs back!”

“That is not possible, my mate, my spark. Lord Megatron would end us all. he would take you away. Take the rest of our eggs away.”

“he is but one mech, and you are far mightier than he is. how can you say this. It should be you who is in charge. And yet you kneel before him. he is not the better mech.” Her optics narrowed, and she gave him a considering look. “I want to leave this place. I do not want to be here. I do not want to be near your Lord. he is a monster.” 

“He is our Lord,” Predaking said shifting uneasily. 

“You are a fool.” 

Predaking curled up on the floor by the nest, protecting it still. She sniffed and turned her helm away. Her spark hurt, she wanted her egg back.

OoOoOoOo

Copy sat in the room, the educational datapad in his servos as Weld and Soundwave did his soly checks and examination. He knew his Master was still worried about his health after he had passed out from lack of fuel. Weld and Soundwave’s visits had quickly become the highlights of his sols.

They all jumped as they heard the door open and Copy shoved his datapad under the berth where he had hidden the other behind the other pads that Master had given him. He looked at Master and was uncertain when he saw something shiny and red in his servos.

“I have brought you a present, Orion,” Master knelt before the berth and pressed the shiny, red thing into Copy’s hands. It looked like an egg. It was warm, and he could feel an EM field pulsing around it.

“M-my lord?” Weld spoke up, “Is that a Predacon egg? They are very heat sensitive, at least they are if they are anything like the eggs Seeker’s used to lay. It will not survive if---” Whatever he would have said next was drowned out as Megatron rose, anger radiated from him as he slapped Weld hard enough to send him flying to the floor.

“If I want your opinion I will ask for it, Slave.” He glared as Soundwave helped the youngling to his feet, shielding him.

“Database: confirms Weld’s assertions, Lord Megatron. Egg: not viable if taken from heat source. Hatchling cannot regulate body temperature.” 

Copy shifted on the berth, and whimpered as he pulled the egg close, stroking it.

Megatron turned at the sound, “You’ve upset him.” 

Soundwave looked at Copy, “Orion: apology offered. Egg: should be returned.”

Megatron scowled at Soundwave, “I brought that egg here for Orion! It is his!”

“Lord Megatron: heed suggestion? Egg: returned to nest. Orion: receive hatchling later.”

Megatron seemed to think it over. “Very well. Summon Predaking here to collect the egg.”

Soundwave began to comm, and Megatron moved to where Copy huddled against the berth. “I am sorry, Orion. You will have to wait for your gift.”

Copy held the egg close to it, stroking it as he was pulled into Master’s lap. “Do not worry, my Orion, you will get a hatchling soon enough. It can keep you company while I am gone.” 

Copy wanted to protest. He did not want to steal somemech’s child. He knew enough not to voice his concerns.

It was not long before there was a ping on the door, and Predaking entered, bowing low. “My lord?”

Megatron took the egg from Copy and then all but threw it at Predaking. “I am told your kind’s eggs are too sensitive to be removed from the nest so young. As soon as they hatch I will be back for the hatchling.”

Predaking gasped horrified at the thrown egg and deftly caught it without harming it. He held it tight to his chest and looked at Megatron with wide optics. “Thank you, Lord Megatron!”

Copy was horrified by the fact that his Master would have stolen a sparkling from a mech just to give it to him as a present. It was a sick and twisted idea to give Copy a child like that. He vented rapidly, hyperventilating. His spark spinning rapidly in distress. He cried out in distress as he was pulled against Megatron. He wanted to cry out. To protest Megatron’s treatment of the egg and the sparkling inside.

Instead he merely cried, fluid dripping from his optics. He could not stand it.

“May I go, my lord?” Predaking said, his optics fixed on Copy, and the steady drip of fluid from his optics.

“Get out of my sight, you have distressed my mate enough today?” Megatron said, his optics settling on Weld, “You, give him something to calm him down.” 

Predaking left the room at a sprint, dashing away with the egg tucked tight to him. Copy couldn’t blame him. Megatron had stolen Predaking’s egg and then treated it as though it was nothing. He would have been upset as well.

Weld gently stuck him with a needle in his lines and he felt the panic fade away. Weld watched him with a gentle smile that made Copy glad to see it. At least he felt calmer, Copy thought, ‘I already knew he treated me like property and now I see that everyone was seen as property to Master.’

He drifted in a cloud as the medicine rushed through his system. He felt calm and strangely outside himself, as he felt Megatron stroke his plating. “I am sorry, my Orion. I did not mean things to end up this way.” He turned, dismissing Soundwave and Weld. Copy was sad to see them go. He hated being left alone. Clearly his master was in an odd mood, and he only felt as though he was halfway there.

He drifted, optics going in and out of focus. He was unable to keep track of what Master said. He seemed to drone on for ages, and Copy only caught snippets. His processor felt fuzzier by the click, recharge stretched out before him teasingly, but evasive. he wanted to sink into it.

Master pulled him close, crooning to him. He tilted up Copy’s chin and caught his lips. Sharp fangs drew energon as he deepened the kiss, his system settling into a steady purr against Copy’s.

Copy felt disconnected with his frame and only vaguely felt as his Master pawed at him before sliding open his panel. He did feel when his Master slid into him with no preparation. It hurt so bad but the medicine in his system soon made it go away and he went back to feeling little.

His Master finished after a few breems and Copy felt him lay on top of his frame. When Megatron entered recharge, Copy allowed himself to enter it as well his processor already feeling muffled and strange. He wondered if this was what it was like to be free, to feel so light and unburdened.

OoOoOoOo

Wheeljack was getting used to sneaking about the Nemesis. The route to Ratchet’s cell was a familiar one by now. The red and white Medic was reading through a datapad when he finally made it to the cell.

“Jack, what are you doing here?”

“I’m checking on you, why else would I be here, Doc?” 

“Ah, how is the plan to get us out of here going?” the medic whispered.

“It’s coming along. We’re just waiting for the right time. Any word on the kids?”

Ratchet pulled a face, “You could say that. I’m---I’m not sure how to---frag. Miko laid a clutch of eggs, Jackey.” 

“What?” 

“Miko. She clutched. She laid eggs. Twelve of them. Last I saw, she was tired but doing alright and so were the eggs.”

“WHAT THE FRAG?”

“Apparently Predacons lay eggs. She has a Predacon alt-form as well. She is calling herself ‘Flamewar’. I don’t think her memories have come back very much.”

Wheeljack plopped down on his aft. “That beast made Miko into a Predacon? Made her have….eggs? Twelve of them? Oh Primus Ratchet!”

“Yeah, I know. It’s not good, but at least she is being cared for. Doing much better than Jack. Raf...isn’t in Knock Out’s care any longer, which is good but he is now under the care of Soundwave. I’m not sure we will be able to free him from that, and even if we could...I’m not sure Raf would go. “

Wheeljack’s optics widened, “What is Soundwave doing to him?” 

“It’s not like that.” 

“Then what is going on? Why would Raf want to stay?”

“You need to understand, Soundwave is the one who got him away from Knock Out. After the pit that Raf went through with him, he needed someone safe to cling to. With me stuck in here and powerless I wasn’t in the running. Soundwave was. He keeps Raf safe, fueled and doesn’t force himself on the poor kid like Knock Out did.”

“Oh, well that changes everything,” Wheeljack snapped.

“You really don't’ understand. I don’t want to defend Soundwave, but he is taking care of the kid. I’m just glad Raf is safe and away from Knock Out. The mech was starving him.” 

“I---what about Jackson?” Wheeljack finally asked looking disgruntled.

“He is still with Megatron. Raf said he’s not in the best situation, but he’s healthy at least, and he’s not carrying. Which is something. Emotionally...probably not doing so well.” 

“I see,” Jackey said looking put out.

“I don’t think you do. Wheeljack, Megatron seems to think that Jack is actually Orion. The kid can’t speak or do anything out of fear that it will set Megatron off.”

Wheeljack looked at Ratchet in shock. “Slag! That is sick and twisted even for the slag maker. I’ll let UM know and start adjusting our plans to take in the….changes.”

“Yeah, might be a good idea to plan for it. I’m just not sure we will be able to get all three kids out. It seems unlikely.” That he did not want to leave without them remained unsaid.

“I’ll see what Magnus said, he might have an idea.” 

Ratchet nodded, glad that Ultra Magnus was planning with Jackey. They might not get blown up that way. “Just be careful going back.”

“Always, Doc. Always.” 

Wheeljack slipped from the cell and made his way back to his own where Ultra Magnus waited impatiently. As soon as he was in the cell, Ultra began to ask him questions. “Is Ratchet all right? Any word on the kids? Any info on the others?”

Wheeljack looked at Ultra unsure of what to say. How was he supposed to tell the mech this?  
Wheeljack sat on the floor of the cell and shuttered his optics. “Yeah, I got some news. Most of it isn’t good.”

Ultra gave him a look of concern. “What has happened?”

“What didn’t? Wheeljack said, sounding exasperated. “I don’t know whether to be enraged or what. He had a lot of...bad news. Miko---frag---the dirty con knocked her up and she’s laid a clutch of eggs, and Raf is now under the care of Soundwave. I can’t imagine how we are going to get any of them out.” He sat down, looking dejected.

“Soldier. That doesn’t sound like the Wheeljack I know.” 

“Yeah, well...like I said. A lotta bad news.”

“What do mean that Miko laid eggs? Why is Raf with Soundwave? Does Ratchet know how they are doing? Are they alright?”

Wheeljack sighed, “I mean that the fraggin’ predacon sparked Miko up. Apparently predacon sparklings….hatch. From eggs. She laid them. Ratchet said twelve.”

Ultra Magnus stared at Wheeljack for a long moment, “Twelve sparklings? There hasn’t been even one in vorns! So many! Is Miko okay?”

“Ratchet said that she was doing alright. Same with Raf. Apparently Knock Out had Raf taken away from him by Soundwave. At least Ratchet said the con isn’t forcing him like Knock Out did and isn’t starving him either.”

Magnus nodded, “I---see. That is all very unexpected. It puts a bit of a cramp into our planning.”

“It does,” Wheeljack said unhappily.

“We will overcome it. Did he have any news on Jackson Darby?” 

“Yeah, he’s still with Megatron. Healthy and not carrying was about all I got on him. Still...not a good situation,” Wheeljack said frowning.

“Not the best news, no,” Magnus agreed, looking thoughtful. “At least they are not in any immediate danger.” 

“I suppose it is how you look at danger. Primus! I can’t wait until we can get the kids away from here! Poor sparklings.”

“Indeed. We should begin to alter our plans. Moving eggs as well as Miko will be more of a challenge. Next time that you go see Ratchet, ask how big the eggs are so we have information to work with.”

OoOoOoOo

Optimus sighed as he saw Smokescreen run from the room, another Praxian following him. It seemed that their youngest team mate was understandably shaken by their apparent return from the dead. “Is Smokescreen alright? We are still not sure how long he would have been on his own after we….fell.”

“He will be, eventually,” Prowl said, looking at the door himself. “He just has to come to accept things.”

Optimus nodded, looking grave. “I can’t help but worry for him. He is a good mech.”

Prowl frowned, “He is. There is much you do not understand though. He is not what he seems.” 

Optimus looked at him sharply, “What do you mean?” 

“He is much younger than you were lead to believe.” 

Optimus frowned, “I could tell he was a young mech, how much younger do you believe he is?”

The rest of team Prime were exchanging confused and puzzled looks at Prowl’s words. Prowl arched an optic ridge at them, “I am going to infer by your statement that you were unaware that Smokescreen is my younger sibling?”

Optimus looked at Prowl in shock, “Your brother? I had no idea. He acts nothing like you.”

The mech introduced as Jazz laughed next to Prowl, “He’s right, babe. Smokey ain’t as stiff as yah are.”

Optimus looked as Prowl gave Jazz a look of resigned bemusement. “Prowl?”

“Jazz here is my bondmate, and is currently carrying our second sparkling. As I was saying, Smokescreen is far younger than he appears. He should be a vorn away from his final upgrade. Alpha Trion saw fit to upgrade him anyways. So you must excuse him when he...acts his age.” 

Optimus looked devastated, “You are telling me we took a youngling into battle with us?”

“I---yes. I am telling you exactly that,” Prowl said smoothly.

“Primus,” Optimus said, shaking his helm. “I...I am truly sorry.” 

“As am I,” Prowl said, his optics flicking down.

“Prowl? What are you sorry for? By the sound of it, he was upgraded without your knowledge.”

Prowl gave Optimus a fierce look, “Perhaps, but I was the one who left him with Alpha Trion at the archives. Had I not left him none of this would have happened to him. He would have been safe at my side.”

“Safe? None of us are safe, Prowl. You cannot know that things would have worked out. Hindsight is perfect, my friend. Do not beat yourself up over what may have been,” Optimus finally said giving Prowl a hard look. 

Prowl looked away, flinching, “As you say, my Prime.” 

“I do, Prowl. We have all made mistakes. We can only carry on and hope for the best.”

“Yah should listen to ‘em, Prowler. He’s talkin’ sense,” Jazz finally chimed in, giving Optimus a big smile.

Prowl reached over and covered Jazz’ servo with his own before turning back to Optimus, “What can you tell us of the battle with the Decepticons? Smokescreen said that he saw you all of you….go offline. Obviously since you are here that is not the case. Therefore we need more information as well as confirmation of several facts. Were there Decepticons on this world? Which ones were observed?”

Optimus sighed, Prowl had not changed as much as he thought. “Yes, the Decepticons were and are still here. We know most of the high command is here now: Megatron himself as well as Soundwave, Shockwave, Starscream, Knock Out, several battalions of Eradicons both miners and soldiers and a hive of insecticons. We are not sure how many of the insecticons remain. Dreadwing and his brother were here but are offline now. Shockwave arrived with what appears to a Predacon that he cloned. The Predacon is sentient and calls itself Predaking.”

Prowl nodded, “I see. And they only have the single warship?” 

“As far as we have been able to tell. The Nemesis is the only Decepticon ship in the system.”

“That at least is in our favour,” Prowl said. He gave Jazz’s hand a squeeze. “We have them outnumbered.” 

“Is there anything else can you tell me?” Prowl said. 

“I...perhaps,” Optimus said looking thoughtful. “They are not as organized as they could be.” 

“Oh?”

“There are...faction within their ranks. Starscream is still trying overthrow Megatron. The Insecticons will only serve the one they accept as dominant. Soundwave remains loyal as well as Shockwave. Knock Out is only out for himself anymore and will support all sides and none if it serves him.”

“Hmm, so possible weaknesses. What about the rest of your team? Smokescreen was unsure of the fate of the others.”

“Ratchet has been captured, but he is still online at last information. As for Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus, I am unsure. They may be alive as prisoners since if they had offlined with us, they would have revived with us.”

Prowl nodded taking it in, “I see. This could prove to be in our favour. We need to get a scout into the Nemesis to see what the situation there truly is.”

Optimus nodded, “That is a good starting point, Prowl. Perhaps get Blaster in on that one? The recordicons would be a better choice to scout. That being said, security on the Nemesis has always been---surprisingly lax.” 

Prowl raised a browplate, “I see. Not surprising given the rest of the information you have given me.” 

“In part,” Optimus said, watching Prowl. The Praxian had that look on his face, as he always did when he was considering something bold...and more than a little dangerous. 

“I think I will talk to Blaster. If that is what you want,” Prowl said, shifting. “I assume you will be taking command?” 

Optimus shook his helm, “Not immediately. You have been in charge here for the duration of the time that my team was away from the main forces. I am aware that there is much I will need to be brought back up to current status on. You will remain in charge until I am properly prepared.”

Prowl nodded to Optimus, “Understood sir. We will begin briefing you whenever you are prepared. Jazz can bring you up to date on general information and once he is done, I will address the more confidential material.”

Optimus nodded, “That sounds like the best course of action. I also think...that all things considered perhaps First Aid should do a full medical work up on my team. We seem to be all in good health, but I worry---all things considered. I am not---Primus---I am just worried.” He looked at Prowl, his optics ernest.

Prowl opened his mouth, but remained silent. He was not sure how to answer such a thing. “Prime. I am sure your worries are unfounded, but I will talk to First Aid all the same.”

“Thank you, Prowl. I as well as my team thank you. Is Smokescreen alright? Has he been examined?”

Prowl looked down at his datapad, “He was examined as soon as he arrived. He was under-fueled but mostly unharmed. I have already arranged for him to have session with Rung. If any of your teams wishes to see him as well, I will see when he is available.”

“That would be most helpful, Prowl. I do not wish for any of my team to suffer unnecessarily. Before we continue, I must ask. Do you know what became of our human allies?”

“We have not been able to confirm anything, my Prime. We likely will not be able until we get a scout onto the Nemesis. Smokescreen did identify two before he buried them. He called them Fowler and Nurse Darby. He was very distraught at not finding the others.” 

“That is grave news. I had hoped he knew more.” 

“He was---is distraught. I am sorry I could not be of my help, my Prime,” Prowl said, bowing his helm.

“It is fine, Prowl. There is only so much that you can do. I just hope the children made it out. They---it is difficult to explain. They are family now. We all care for them greatly.” 

“I understand, my Prime. If you and your mechs will follow me, I will show you to your quarters along the way to the medbay for your exams. First Aid has informed me that he can see you all now.”

Optimus stood along with the rest of his team, it would seem that there was much to be done still and far greater wounds to heal than he had feared. With Agent Fowler and Nurse Darby offline, there would be no one to care for the children when they were found. He would discuss adopting them with his troops.

Prowl lead them down the hall through the long corridors and finally into the area with the habitation suites. Optimus could not help but think the mech looked relieved when he finally deposited them into First Aid’s care.


	4. Chapter 4

Smokescreen’s doorwings twitched nervously. “You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Part of him wanted to sidle up and touch Streetwise’s fluttering wings. He clenched his hands together, holding tight enough to make them dent. “I mean...is my brother making you. He does that. he can me a big---er---bully. I mean he’s domineering I guess.” 

Streetwise stared at him, and for a moment Smokescreen was sure the mech would agree with him, “I volunteered.”

“You...oh,” Smokescreen said looking flabbergasted. “That’s nice of you. Awesome, really.”

Smokescreen was not sure what to say. He was excited to see the ship but having the mech who he was feeling...something for was very strange. He had never felt like this before. He really wanted to talk to someone about the strange way that Streetwise made him feel but he wasn’t sure who he could trust that wouldn’t blab it to his brother.

Streetwise gave him a smile, “It is my pleasure, Smokey. So what do want to see first?”

Smokescreen looked around nervously, “I am not really sure. I have never been on a ship like this before.”

Streetwise gave him a puzzled look, “Then how did you get to Earth?”

Smokescreen looked away, “I was in stasis when Alpha took us off Cybertron and his ship was much smaller. It was about the size of the ship that came and got me. Then we were taken to another ship but I didn’t see much of it all. Then I got in an escape pod and landed on Earth.”

“Another ship? Which one was it?” Streetwise asked his tone curious, just as the regret that followed was visibly apparent when Smokescreen cringed.

“A prison ship. I don’t remember much of that. I was in stasis most of the time. Guess most bots don’t trust me to do the right thing when I’m online.” 

“I’m sure it isn’t that at all,” Streetwise said, and inched closer. His hand settled on Smokescreen’s back just under his doorwings. Clearly it was a motion meant to comfort, but it sent Smokescreen’s spark spinning, and his field fluttering out to caress Streetwise’s.

“I--I---”he squirmed under Streetwise’s attention, field flaring out in the most embarrassing manner.

Finally he moved away from Streetwise’s touch and turned so his doorwings were pointed away from the mech. “I-ah, I don’t really want to talk about it, is that okay? Um, why don’t you pick a spot to show me on the ship?”

Streetwise watched as Smokescreen fled from his touch and was filled with regret. He had not meant to spook the smaller mech. So when Smokescreen asked him to begin the tour, Streetwise was relieved. “Sure, how about we see the mess hall?”

Smokescreen jumped at the suggestion. It was was ground at least, maybe he wouldn't embarrass himself. It was a big maybe though. His spinal strut still felt warm where Streetwise’s hand had been. He wished it was still there, but he knew that Streetwise probably just saw him as an awkward youngling. “That would be great. Lead the way,” he said in a forced cheerful tone.

Streetwise smiled, and lead the way down the hallway, “We will have to take the lift to the deck below. The mess is adjacent to the barrack’s.” 

Smokescreen frowned, “But aren’t we leaving the barrack’s? I mean...” 

“No, this is the officer’s habitation suites. Prowl wanted you close.”

Smokescreen frown not entirely sure how to take that, “Yeah, he probably thinks I will do something rash and hurt myself. He thinks I am a bitlet still.” 

Streetwise laughed, “I think it is more that he is worried that if he does not keep you close that he might lose you. You did not see how worried he was when he recieved your transmission from the surface. He looked like a cybercat with it’s first litter.”

Smokescreen looked at Streetwise in surprise. “Really? He was actually worried about me? I...I thought he didn’t want me. That was the reason he left me behind at the archives.”

Streetwise looked at the smaller mech and frowned, a young mech like Smokescreen should never be so worn and hardened. It was a sad sight to see in a mech who should still be off running about with the other younglings.

“I’m sure he only left you because he thought it was safer there. Sadly there are no safe places right now,” Streetwise said as they stepped into the lift.

“I---I don’t know. I always thought he found me to be a bother. I know I’m trying...and we are nothing at all alike,” Smokescreen said, looking down at his peds. He didn’t move away when Streetwise touched him again, hand moving up and down his spinal strut. 

“You are too hard on yourself. You are a good mech, I can tell.” 

Smokescreek looked up, “You don’t know me.” 

“I’d like to though.” 

Smokescreen just stared, “I---you would?” 

Streetwise gave the obviously confused young mech a warm smile. “I would. You seem like a great mech Smokescreen. I would be honored to be your friend.”

Streetwise was treated to Smokescreen beaming at him bright enough to rival the sun. Primus but the mech had an amazing smile. “Really? I have never had a real friend before. I mean, I had the team when I joined Team Prime but I usually got stuck to the side. They thought I was too new to help.”

Streetwise carefully put a servo on Smokescreen’s shoulder, “I am sure they just wanted you to be safe and not get hurt.”

Smokescreen leaned into the touch, “I guess. I dunno. I always felt like they thought I was a bother.” He vented softly thinking about the time in the cave with Optimus. Even had he become the Prime they would not have given him a second thought. He just knew it. Nothing he ever did was good enough.

“Don’t think that way,” Streetwise said, optics dimming. “We are all glad you are here and safe.” The lift chimed and came to a halt at their floor. The doors slid open revealing another hallway. “Come on, lets get a cube, I know I could use one.” 

Smokescreen’s doorwings drooped as he followed the mech down the hall.

To Smokescreen’s surprise the mess hall was nothing like the spartan barren expanse he had expected. There were neat tables, smaller booths as well as plenty of space for mechs to wander and converse. “Wow! This place is amazing! And it is huge! Why do you need mess hall this big?”

Streetwise laughed, “It is a multi-purpose room. If they need to give a class then they may give it in here. The same for ceremonies as well as the hand to hand competitions. They are always fun to watch.”

Smokescreen listened to him raptly as he explained the different mixtures he could do to his energon and that there was even a whip function on the dispenser. Smokescreen was not curious to try it, not just yet anyway.

It was all a bit...overwhelming. “ I...could I just have a midgrade he said, looking at the dispenser, not quite trusting himself to touch it. The thing looked complicated, and...breakable.

Streetwise fixed him a cube, looking amused at Smokescreen’s recalcitrant look. Smokescreen sipped it slowly, optics widening. “This is delicious. So much better than what we had been consuming on Earth. Really any energon was hard to come by there. We rationed it pretty strictly.” His tank had never been fully, not really. They had never ran on fumes, but there were times it had been a near thing.

Streetwise was sad that a young mech like this had been forced to endure rationing at such a tender age. Not to mention that at his age he should be consuming twice as much as a regular mech as his spark adapted to his new frame.

No wonder he acted like such a sparkling at times. He never seemed to have been allowed time to adjust to his new form. “I am glad you like that one. I will give you my mix recipe if you want it.”

Smokescreen nodded, “I would like that.” He gulped down the rest of the cube under Streetwise’s watch, and was promptly offered a second cube which he accepted with wide optics. “I---am I allowed two? Really?” 

“You can have as many as you want,” Streetwise said his optics intent. “First Aid’s orders.” 

Smokescreen finished the second cube, his checkplating heating up as he considered what Streetwise said. “I shouldn't get special treatment. I’m just a mech.” 

“We all want you to get better,” Streetwise shrugged. “Come on, there are other places to see.” 

Smokescreen smiled at Streetwise and eagerly followed him out of the mess hall. He was led down along the corridor and Smokescreen was amazed when Streetwise kept up a running commentary about the various rooms that they passed. “That is where your brother works, it is the tactical offices. That room is a storage closet officially but it is where two of the other younglings have set up a makeshift still.”

Smokescreen’s optics widened, “Does my brother know?” 

“He ignores it. It’s good for morale,” Streetwise winked, “And if he busted them they would just move it someplace else where he couldn't keep an optic on them.”

Smokescreen nodded, “Who are they?” 

“The younglings? Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They are...a handful. You will meet them eventually along with the rest of the crew. Anyway...that is Jazz’s office and special operation’s debriefing rooms. Most of Special Ops live in separate housing. They are very tight-knit. And on the other side is Red Alert’s office and...his ah...living quarters. He’s probably watching us now. Yeah, i know you are you paranoid glitch,” he said looking at the camera mounted above the door in question. He winked at Smokescreen, “Red is a...character.”

Smokescreen pulled a face, “Yeah...we’ve met. I am not sure I would call him a character. Although I could think of a few choice other words.” 

Streetwise snickered, “Mmmm...I’m sure. And I suppose you have had the pleasure of meeting Inferno as well?”

“You could say that.” 

Streetwise gave him a curious look, “Okay, you have to tell the story. What happened?”

Smokescreen blushed, “It was when I was little. I got lost and ended up in a restricted area. Red Alert freaked out and started trying to drag me to the brig, saying he was going to ‘question’ me and calling me a spy.”

Streetwise shook his helm, “Sounds like Red Alert. What happened?”

“Inferno. He came by and grabbed Red Alert, taking him back to his office. He dragged me along and left me outside the office. Prowl showed up a breem later.”

“Outside, huh?”

“Yeah, they were kinda loud in there, and Prowl was furious when he came and got me. It was all a bit weird.” 

Streetwise chuckled, “I bet they were loud.”

“Traumatised?” 

“Just a little,” Smokescreen gave him a little smile.

“What did Prowl do?”

Smokescreen laughed, “He made Inferno have to give the ‘Turbofoxes and the Laserhawks’ speech to all the younglings for a vorn. Inferno was mortified.”

Streetwise laughed, and Smokescreen noticed that Streetwise had a beautiful laugh. “That is a very inventive punishment.”

Smokescreen nodded, “He is good at that. So what is this room?”

Streetwise pointed to the door, “This is the rec room. Come one, you will love this.”

Smokescreen followed him inside, marvelling a bit at the set-up, there were game tables of all sorts, a lot he didn’t recognize, and a giant vidscreen on one wall. It was currently on, with a bunch of mechs sitting around it.  
“Oh, this is nice,” Smokescreen said as he was pulled across the room. 

“Want to meet some of the crew then?” 

“I...yeah sure,” he said, surprised when Streetwise took his hand and pulled him towards the other bots.

“Hey, guys,” Streetwise said cheerily.

Several of the mech’s turned and greeted Streetwise. “Hey Smokey, how are you? Who is this?”

Streetwise guided Smokescreen forward, “This is my friend Smokescreen. He is new to the ship.”

“Welcome aboard. Is Streetwise giving you the tour? Oh! I’m Groove, Nice to meet you!” 

Smokescreen was about to reply when a strange mech with a bright red face, shoved aside several mechs, “Why hello there. I’m Tracks. When you get tired of slumming it with these losers, come see me.”

Smokescreen blinked at the mech, “Um...hi.” He edged closer to streetwise and nearly yelped when the new mech’s field brushed his own...in a far too invasive manner. “I don’t---” 

“You are a cute thing,” the mech continued on seemingly oblivious to Smokescreen’s discomfort. He reached out, running a hand across Smokescreen’s doorwings, and pinched the edge.

Streetwise had been glaring before. The glare turned into a chest deep growl. “Step away.” 

Smokescreen yelped at the pinch to his doorwings. That had hurt! He moved so Streetwise was between him and this ‘Tracks’ mech. He did not like this mech at all!

Tracks gave Streetwise an unimpressed look, “Move out of the way, Arm-boy. If I needed a ‘hand’ I would ask for it. Now go away, I was trying to talk to this sweet chassised little mech. So, hot rims- want to race?”

Smokescreen moved closer to Streetwise. his wings drooped, and fluttered with distress. “No, I---I really don’t want to.” his wing still stung where the mech had abused it. He wouldn't have been surprised to find the it was dented. “I don’t know you.”

The red-faced mech smirked, “Well, we could easily changed that.” His engine revved loudly.

“He obviously doesn’t want to, Tracks. Lay off,” Streetwise growled, his hands curling into fists. 

“Oh, so you are speaking for him now? I thought you just met.” 

“We may have just met, Tracks but I would not allow anyone to be around you when I am responsible for them. Go back to admiring yourself in your mirror. At least then you shut the frag up.”

Smokescreen did not know why but the sight of Streetwise with his wings flared up in an aggressive posture and the way that he was defending him made his spark pulse happily in his chest. He moved closer to Streetwise until he was almost snuggled up against the mech’s backplates- nearly nestled between his doorwings. It made him feel very safe there.

Tracks sneered and moved as though he would go around Streetwise to get to Smokescreen, when a large mech with kibble similar to Inferno’s came up behind the mech and loomed over him. “Is there a problem here, Streetwise?”

“Not any more, Hot Spot. Tracks here was just leaving.”

Tracks narrowed his optics, nasal plating tilting up, “I certainly was. None of you are worth the trouble involved.” When he glanced at Smokescreen though, the mech’s optics were hard, and Smokescreen could not help but be worried about the hatred that the mech seemed to radiate as he stalked away. It didn’t, however, make Smokescreen move from his hiding place. If anything he held on tighter to Streetwise. Their fields mingled, sending Smokescreen purring.

“You okay there?” the big mech asked, peering over Streetwise’s shoulder.

Smokescreen met the mech’s gave and flushed, “Oh...oh...I’m sorry. Yes I’m fine,” he squeaked.

Streetwise tried to turn and Smokescreen backed up to avoid being hit with a door panel. Streetwise moved close to Smokescreen, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Smokescreen looked down and blushed. “No, no. I am fine.Thank you both for protecting me. I do not like that mech. He is far too pushy.”

The new mech, Hot Spot he thought the name had been, smiled, “Any friend of Streetwise is a friend of mine. What is your name, little mech?”

Smokescreen smiled and bowed slightly, “My name is Smokescreen.”

“I thought that was who you might be,” Hot Spot said. “Prowl mentioned that you were here. It’s good to have you aboard.”

“Ah, thanks,” Smokescreen said, ducking his helm. “I---I like it here so far, and Streetwise was showing me around before we were---ah---interrupted.”

“Yeah, Tracks does tend to be a spoiled-sport.” 

Smokescreen laughed at the description of the rude mech. “I would have to agree, although I know I am not supposed to judge people without knowing them.”

Hot Spot laughed, “That is a good way to look at the world around you Smokescreen. I can attest that Tracks is an aft of the greatest measure. You are in much better company with my brother Streetwise here.”

Smokescreen blinked and looked from Streetwise to Hot Spot and back. “You are brothers? I would never have guessed, you look so different from each other.”

“True, but we are all of Praxian design. We took different frame specs for our job. Before Praxus fell we worked search and rescue. Once we joined the Autobots we saw no reason to change that, and it ended up getting us fast tracked to the Gestalt program. It all ended in our favour, really. We make a good team,” Hot Spot said.

Smokescreen’s optics widened, “You are a gestalt?” 

Streetwise laughed, “Yes. I think you already met First Aid, and you just met Groove. I’m sure you will meet Blades soon.” 

“Oh, wow. That is so cool. I’ve never met a gestalt before. Wow.” 

Streetwise’s lip twitched up, Smokescreen was very enthusiastic about everything it seemed. “Yeah, we are.” 

Wait, so First Aid is your brother too? And that Groove mech we just saw? You are so lucky! They are awesome!”

Streetwise smiled, pleased that Smokescreen liked his brothers. It seemed important to him. “Yes, they are. You have not met Blades yet but I am sure you will see him before long. I should warn you, Blades can be a bit...gruff.”

Hot Spot laughed, “You mean he is an aft. Blades is a rude aft mech but pay him no mind, Smokescreen. Blades acts tough but he is as soft as a polishing cloth inside.”

Smokescreen giggled at Hot Spot’s description, which made Streetwise laugh with him.

Smokescreen could not keep the smile off of his faceplates, his spark had not felt that light in years. It pulsed in his chest, feeling warm and...just wonderful. It always seemed to feel that way when he was near. “He can’t be too bad if he’s your brother,” Smokescreen finally said, unable to stop grinning.

“I’m glad you think so,” Streetwise said, his gaze intent. It made Smokescreen vent loudly, and wonder if he just shouldn’t ask Streetwise about the way he felt.

The look that Streetwise’s brother was giving him though squashed that idea quickly enough. He might ask later when they had more privacy. He did not know who else to ask, unless he went back to First Aid but Smokescreen hated being a bother to people when they were trying to work. Seeing as how First Aid was the CMO for this ship, he was likely always busy.

Why did things have to be so complicated? He just wanted answers to some personal questions. Was that so much to ask?

As Smokescreen moved with Streetwise toward a couch that was empty, he fluttered his wing without thinking and winced, whimpering out loud at the pain from his dented doorwing. Streetwise turned at the sound and examined his doorwings.

Streetwise growled angrily at the dent that Tracks had left on Smokescreen’s wing. How dare the mech mark him!?

“Here, let me look at at,” Streetwise murmered. His fingers were gentle on Smokescreen wing as he examined the damage. “I think it pinched some wiring, Hold still.” 

Smokescreen whimpered again, optics flaring, “It hurts.” 

“I know, hold on,” He popped the dent out, making Smokescreen gasp.

“That feels....better. Thank you,” he beamed.

“You should have told me that you were hurt. I could have fixed this sooner. Tracks did that, didn’t he?”

Smokescreen looked away, he did not want to think about that mech or the way that he had touched his doorwings without permission. It was very shocking that anyone would be so disrespectful. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to think about it.”

Streetwise could understand what was wrong with Smokescreen, it was very violating when someone assaulted you like that. Slag. “Prowl will have to be informed about this.”

“No, it’s---it’s fine. I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Smokescreen said, visibly fretting at the thought of his brother knowing about it. “Really. It’s fine. It’s over. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Streetwise frowned, “He shouldn’t be allowed to hurt a bot like that, or be so pushy. He could tell you were uncomfortable and he pushed the matter anyway. It’s not right. You shouldn't be treated that way.”

Smokescreen flushed, ducking his helm. “Thank you all the same.”

Streetwise put a fingertip under Smokescreen’s chin, pressing up until his own optics met Smokescreen’s aqua ones. They were overly bright, close to whiting out.

“You have nothing to thank me for, Smokescreen. I did what any decent mech would have done.” Streetwise could hardly believe that he had yet to notice until now that Smokescreen’s optics were so beautiful. They were just so gorgeous!

//You need to back away, Streetwise.//

Streetwise let go of Smokescreen’s chin in surprise and moved a step back. //Hot Spot? What are you?//

//You looked a klik away from either kissing the mech strutless or fragging him on a table.//

Smokescreen blushed. “I am sorry, I should not have touched you so familiarly. Please forgive my rudeness. Is your wing feeling all the way better?”

“I--I--yeah, it feels better,” Smokescreen stammered, his blush deepening. He didn't want Streetwise to stop touching him, but he knew that was wrong. Maybe he was a bad mech for wanting whatever it was. It was very confusing, and he was not sure that Hot spot liked him at all, not with the way the bot’s optics narrowed and watched him intently. “Much better,” he added lamely.

//Or maybe both,// Hot Spot added across him bond with Streetwise, making his brother sputter, and Smokescreen stare at the mech in confusion.

“Is something wrong?” Smokescreen finally asked.

“No, no, nothing at all. maybe we should continue the tour.” 

Smokescreen gave him a worried look but smiled after a klik. “I’d lov- like that. A lot.”

Meanwhile, across the bond Streetwise was being barraged by laughter from three of his four brothers. //Looks like you caught yourself a cutie, Street! Primus, he is adorable!// 

Blades’ end of the bond was worryingly quiet on his end. Normally, Blades would be right there with the others mocking him. Instead he was not answering any prods over the bond.

//I’ll look into it,Street’. You go escort your cutie around.//

//Thanks, Groove.//

“Where do you want to see next?”

Smokescreen wiggled in his seat, “Hmmm...I really don’t know what my options are. Wherever I guess.”

“Well, I can show you around the bays, and the command center. It’s not too interesting, but you should probably know where these things are, and the public washracks, just in case. The room you are in has a private one though.” 

Smokescreen blinked at him, “Really? I didn’t even think to look.” 

Streetwise blinked back, and chuckled, “Yeah, it does. I promise.” 

Smokescreen smiled at Streetwise and followed the mech as they headed out to continue his tour. Streetwise was so nice!

OoOoOoOo

Flamewar shifted slightly from side to side as she perched on her eggs. She had been so overjoyed when her traitor mate had returned her stolen egg from the evil mech. She had settled that egg at the very bottom of her clutch where it was safest.

Her traitorous idiotic mate had persisted in trying to woo her. She would never trust him again.

She glared at him as he came in carrying yet another mechanimal. She was not impressed with his offerings, or his apologies. She turned away from him, hunkering down on the nest and hiding the eggs from site. An angry growl made it’s way from her vocalizer, proclaiming her feelings on the matter aloud.

“Flamewar,” he said in a cajoling voice, “I brought you sustenance. Please, Flamewar.”

Another growl left her vocalizer, louder this time. She did not want to have anything to do with the traitor. The Idiot.

He moved closer with the mechanimal carcass, bringing it within her reach from atop her nest. However, it also meant that he was in her reach as well. She lashed out with a clawed servo and left a slash along his shoulder.

He roared at the attack and dropped the mechanimal, “Enough! You do not attack me!”

She hissed, “Get away from my nest, traitor! Or have you come to try and steal another hatchling for your master? Go grovel to him, be the slave you act like!”

“Enough,” he roar back, and bodily lifted her from the nest. “You are acting like a spoiled little sparkling.” 

She thrashed in his hold, but he held her easily enough, “Let go of me. Traitor. Monster.” 

“I am your mate, you will not act in this manner. I will not allow it. I have reached the end of my patience, my mate.”

He pinned her down, and no matter how much she wiggled and bucked she could not break his hold. She began to thrash and claw at his frame, biting at what she could. She would not allow him to harm her eggs again! He had proven to be a poor mate and sire.

She needed to drive him away! Refuse to mate with him again. She hoped her hatchlings took after her and not after him.

“Release me! Traitor! Egg thief! Unfit mate!”

“Stop being foolish. I have done my best to protect you and our eggs. I have done nothing but protect you, my mate.” 

“Lies. All lies. You gave that monster an egg.” 

Predaking growled, “To protect you.”

“Let me go.” 

“I don’t think I will, I can tell you will do something foolish. Something we'll both regret.”

OoOoOoOo

Weld was giddy as Soundwave lead him down the hall toward the small medbay. Ratchet would already be there waiting as he had been several days before. It made the little mech’s spark skip. Even feeling as light sparked as he did he still walked close to Soundwave as they made their way through the ship, holding on the plating tightly, and sometimes Soundwave’s spindly fingers. He held on tighter anytime they neared one of the other cons or worse...the eradicons. The big mechs at least ignored him, the eradicons were less inclined. He had been cornered one too many times, enough that he stuck as close to Soundwave as Laserbeak did. Could he have crawled up in the mech’s plating and hid like the symbiote he would have.

“Weld: pleased?” Soundwave asked when they reached an empty hallway.

Weld looked up at him and gave him a brief smile. Soundwave always felt so safe, and he was going to see Ratchet. More of his memories were coming back and he remembered him as a creator figure from the mysterious time before. Ratchet was a wonderful teacher too! So much more patient than Knock Out had been and Weld was learning so much from him!

He liked learning how to help people. He wanted to be a medic and help people all the time. He was so happy that Soundwave was allowing him to do this and had arranged for him to learn from Ratchet instead of Knock Out. Knock Out still scared him.

He didn’t want to think about that though. He was in too good of a mood.

Soundwave’s field caressed his own, just and happy and pleased as Weld’s own field. “Yes, I am,” Weld chirped, making a sparkling like trill in his excitement. “I like learning, but you know that.” 

“Soundwave: aware,” came the wry reply. His thin digits gave Weld’s a little squeeze.

They finally reached the medbay and it was all Weld could do to contain himself and not run inside and fling himself at Ratchet. He might had had there not been two eradicons guarding Ratchet. He saw them and hung back, putting Soundwave between him and the two black and purple mechs.

He still did not trust the eradicons at all. They had gotten him into trouble with Knock Out so many times and often just to watch him get punished by his then master.

They were bad mechs. Very bad mechs.

Soundwave looked at the two eradicons and they left quickly. As soon as they were gone, Weld rushed over to Ratchet and hugged his leg as tight as he could. “Ratchet! I missed you! What are you teaching me this sol?!”

Ratchet pet his helm and smiled at him before Weld saw him give Soundwave a wary look. He knew that Ratchet worried that Soundwave would hurt him the way that Knock Out had. He knew that Soundwave would never do that though. Soundwave was so nice too. 

“I think we will do a review tonight of the basic first aid your been learning, and probably start with setting welds,” Ratchet said, still watching Soundwave. The mistrustful look on his faceplates did not entirely surprise Weld. Eventually he would understand, Weld hoped. 

“Wonderful,” Weld said optics wide, “Let me get my tools.” 

Ratchet laughed, “You do that,” he turned back to Soundwave scowling.

Weld moved to the cabinet, and pulled out the medical kit Ratchet had helped him put together. One day he hoped he would have a subspace to put it in. He had nothing now, so he did not lug it around. He moved it over to the counter, and set out the tools carefully, going over their uses in his processor as he did so.

He just knew that he was going to do well. He had been studying his datapads so carefully. He was learning so much with Ratchet.

When he turned back after he finished, Soundwave had already left. Ratchet was smiling as he watched Weld unpack his kit. “I see you remembered how to lay out your tools. Good job, Weld.”

Weld beamed at the praise. He liked it when he was praised by Ratchet. Ratchet handed Weld a datapad. “Here is a short test. Let me know when you are finished, and I will grade it. I am sure that you will do well.”

Weld smiled at Ratchet’s words and took the datapad. He activated it and began to answer the test.

He tried not to wiggle with excitement. He loved this. All of it. Ratchet waited patiently for him to finish, and smiled at Weld and his apparent excitement.

He did wiggle then, wringing delicate fingers as he went slowly through the questions. “Do you know how long Soundwave if leaving me here today?”

“Can’t say he let me know, not like was talk.” 

“Oh, I know. I’m sorry. I wish you got along.” 

Ratchet stopped and gave the youngling an exasperated look. “Rafael.” 

“You shouldn't call me that.”

“That is your name.”

Weld frowned, “Not anymore. I’m Weld now. Soundwave says that is my name now. It is a good name isn’t it?”

Ratchet frowned at the mention of Soundwave. He was quick however to reassume, “Weld is a good name. Are you sure that it is what you want to be called? You could pick another name if you wanted.”

Weld thought, he liked his name. “I like my name. I want to keep it. Is...is that alright?”

Ratchet gave him a soft smile and a pat on the helm, “That is fine.”

Weld relaxed, Knock Out had given him the name, which he found distasteful, but he couldn’t help but agree with Soundwave. Rafael was dead. He should never be called that. It left him feeling unsettled. He pushed the feeling away and looked up at Ratchet, pushing a smile onto his lipplates. “Thank you.”

“Oh, youngling,” Ratchet sighed, hugging him suddenly. “What am I going to do with you?” 

Weld hugged him back soaking up the warmth and love in Ratchet’s field. “You worry too much, Ratchet. Soundwave takes care of me. It is all okay. It’s not like before. I promise.”

“That is what I’m afraid of, R-Weld. I know you are happy but I still worry that he is up to something. Let’s not talk about that for now. Continue on your test while I set up the next part.”

Weld nodded and went back to answering the questions. He read each question twice before answering, thinking over his answers careful. He wanted to get them all right. He wanted to make Ratchet proud of him, show him how smart he was.

Ratchet was putting something together on the counter but his frame was blocking Weld from seeing what it was.

Weld battled with himself for a moment, curious to see what Ratchet was doing but equally eager to get all of the answers right. Perfectionism won in the end, and he forced himself to ignore whatever it was Ratchet was working on. He was sure he would find out soon enough. 

His full attention went back to the examine and finally he worked his way to the end. “Ratchet, I’m done.”

“Bring it here, bitlet,” Ratchet said gruffly.

Weld hurried over, feeling warm in his spark that Ratchet had called him bitlet. He was certain that he had gotten all of the questions right. He beamed at Ratchet as he took it and began to grade it. While Ratchet was occupied, Weld looked at what Ratchet had been putting together.

It was a hologram of a mech with several wounds on his frame. Weld could see support struts and energon lines that had been severed in several of the wounds. It looked so real!

“Well bitlet, I am impressed. You answered all the questions right. Now for the next part. You get to work on the holo-patient.”

Weld’s optics widened, and he moved over when Ratchet motioned him to.

“This is a bit more advanced than your other exercises, but it’s all been covered in the material you uploaded. Can you tell me what you would do first?” 

Weld looked the holograph over, assessing the patients condition, “There are several major energon lines that have been severed, those would been clamped off first.”

Ratchet nodded encouragingly, “What else?”

Weld looked at the wounds and reviewed his lessons. “Um, there are several coolant lines that are torn as well?”

Ratchet frowned, pointing to one of the wounds and shaking his helm, “First, Weld, you would seal the area here to prevent any fluids from clogging his vents. Then, you go on to sealing the coolant lines. Then what would you do?”

Weld looked at his peds in shame at the correction. “C-check the damaged struts and repair?”

“Very good, Weld.”

Weld nodded nervously, “Uh...and I would start an energon and coolant drip to replace the lost fluids, b-but it would be fine to do that afterwards provided the patient was stable. Then jack in to the mech’s medical port to make sure there are no other error warnings.”

Ratchet smiled encouragingly, “If the patient isn’t stable?”

Weld fidgeted, “You would need to start the drips first, because more than likely it is because the patient is too low on fluids. That could damage other systems.”

“Excellent. Now that you know what you should be doing, go ahead a do it. Show how to do each step on the holo-patient’s wounds.”

Weld froze for a moment, what if he messed up? Ratchet put a servo on his shoulder, “Relax, Weld. I am right here, you will do fine.”

Weld gave Ratchet a sort of smile at his words. “Thanks Ratchet.”

Weld grabbed his hemostat and a few other tools and began to seal and repair the energon lines on the patient. His hand was steady, but he felt like a jittery mess inside as he went through all of the steps that he had described.

“Very good,” Ratchet murmured, watching as Weld carefully sealed the leaks and took the suction hose removing the excess fluid before it could get into the vents. He was careful as he Made the final weld on the lines and moved on to repair the support struts. It was tetchy work. His fingers unused to such fine details. 

“Here, like this,” Ratchet said, knowing he was struggling. The medic did the repair slowly, and Weld nodded, soaking up the information. The second strut’s repair went much smoother, and by the time Weld was jacking into the patient he felt more relaxed.

He felt odd being in another mech’s systems like this, even if it was not a real mech. He carefully went through his checklist of areas to verify as working properly. Soon he was on the last step and ran a full frame diagnostic that would tell him if he had missed anything in his first sweep or any injuries that were not obvious. 

To his gratified relief, there were no errors found and he began to bring his patient out of stasis. He unplugged from the patient and turned to find Ratchet beaming. “Excellent job, Rafa-Weld. You did better than some of my students on Cybertron did after a vorn of study.”

Weld beamed, system purring at the praise. It was hard for him not to preen. “I---thank you. Is there anything else we are going to work on this sol?”

Ratchet laughed, “You are such an eager bot, you know I’m proud of you. I did dig up some of the more advanced texts, so I have more downloads for you, but you are going to have to go slow and let them settle. There is a lot of information on each data chip.”

Weld nearly bounced in place, “I will be careful, I promise.” 

“I know you will, bitlet.” Ratchet smiled at Weld’s enthusiasm. He wished his students and interns on Cybertron had been so dedicated and interested in learning.

Instead he had had to deal with mechs more interested in interfacing, partying or had mental breakdowns from stress. Mechs who showed up for shifts drunk or never showed up at all. Even mechs caught using in the pharmacy! That mech had gotten off far easier than he should, but his creator was a council mech.

Ratchet moved over to the cabinet and pulled out a small storage cube that held a series of data chips. “Take them in order. And do not get into a hurry. I know you are excited, but I don’t want you giving yourself a data error and not letting the information download properly.”

“Ratchet, I promise I will do it right.” He took the first chip, and inserted it into the slot in his arm. He vented softly, letting his optics fall shut. It felt amazing. Like nothing he could describe, certainly better than interfacing. At least in his experience.

“Weld! I want a promise: one data chip per sol! No more than that! You allow the data to process and settle. No rushing to try and download all of them at once. Or trying to race through them as fast as you can.”

Weld gave him a flat look, “Fine Ratchet. I promise. Don’t worry, I would never break a promise. I know you are just trying to protect me.”

Ratchet nodded, feeling some measure of relief, “Thank you. I’m sorry, bitlet, I just worry for you.” 

Weld’s look softened, “I know you do. I worry for you as well. All the time. I will be good. I promise.”  
Ratchet hugged him suddenly and tightly, “I wish I could take you away from this.” 

“Oh, Ratchet.” Weld hugged Ratchet back for a long moment.

Ratchet hated what had been done to the young mech. It was bad enough the children had been turned Cybertronian, lost their families but they also had to be enslaved? Raped? He shook his helm, it was dark sol for the Autobots that they had failed their friends so thoroughly.

“Oh! I know, Ratchet! I will ask Soundwave if you can come and live with us! I am sure he will say yes! Then you can teach me all sol! Wouldn’t that be great!?”

Ratchet blinked down at Weld, “I---” he didn’t even know how to reply to that. “I’m a prisoner, sweetspark. I doubt they would allow that.” He didn’t want even contemplate that. Living with Soundwave was a bit of a nightmare.

“You never know,” Weld said, his enthusiasm uncurbed. “He’s great really.” 

“Oh, Weld. Don’t get your hopes up.” 

Weld gave him a confused look, “Why? Soundwave is nice! He’ll help, I’m sure of it! He saved me after all! He helped me get away from Knock Ou! He can help you right?”

Ratchet smiled sadly and drew Weld into another hug. “It...it doesn’t work like that, Rafael. I am a prisoner. You were a slave. Soundwave is your Master now and the only way he would be able to ‘take’ me would for me to be given to him as you were.”

Weld’s optics widened, “He doesn’t treat me like a slave. He cares about me.”

Ratchet didn’t even know how to answer that. “I guess. I just know that they won’t let me leave. I am a prisoner.” 

“Well...I don’t know. I will asked Soundwave. You never know. Maybe he would help.” Ratchet could tell that Weld had already made up his mind and nothing was going to dissuade him.

Ratchet had to shake his helm, Weld was quite a bit like him. Very much so. It made his spark hurt even more to think of. Rafael, Weld now was like the sparkling he had never been able to have. He was so much Ratchet and to know that this mechling, so dear to his spark had suffered so much, and would continue to suffer until Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus could get them free.

He would have to do what he could to keep ‘Weld’ safe. When they were free, he would talk to the others about taking Rafael as his sparkling.

OoOoOoOo

Smokescreen was amazed that Prowl had not protested when Streetwise had asked for him to go with them to earth. He was excited to be part of the exploration group, and could barely sit still in his seat in the transport.

Streetwise sat beside him, close enough for their plating to touch. Smokescreen sidled closer, “What will we do if we find bots down there? We aren’t going to leave them?” 

“That will all depend on what we find when we get down there. Why don’t you tell us about what these ‘humans’ are like? I have to admit the idea of organics being sentient is surprising to me.”

Smokescreen smiled at Streetwise and was about to reply when he heard Streetwise’s final brother speak. Blades had ignored him up until this point, “Oh right, because that is really possible. Can’t you see the idiotic glitch is just trying to get your attention Street? There is no such thing as a sentient organic.”

Smokescreen’s optics widened in surprise for one moment before anger flooded them, “If anyone is an idiot, you are. You don’t even know what you are talking about you---you slagging glitch.” He started to rise, to fling himself at Blades. He would have had Streetwise not grabbed his shoulder and forcibly made him sit down.

“Blades, that was unnecessary.” 

Blades snorted, sneering. “Whatever. He’s lying.” 

“Blades!” Hot Spot’s voice rang from the front of the transport, “Enough! I have video files from others who were here with Smokescreen prove his words. The organics that were here before the cyberforming appeared to have been sentient. Whether they were able to survive or not is another matter. Now sit down and stop acting like a new spark. I swear to Primus that Lil’ Bluestreak acts better than you do.”

Blades scowled but turned so that his rotary blades faced the two mechs as he began to blatantly ignore them. He really was acting like a sparkling. Smokescreen chuckled softly to himself.

::Don’t mind him,:: Streetwise said on a private comm to Bluestreak. ::He really is always that bratty, it’s nothing personal.::

::Kinda sounded like it was. He doesn’t like me.::

Streetwise scooted closer, ::He doesn’t know you.::

::No, he doesn’t, and I don’t think he wants to.:: His wings flicked behind him, showing his exasperation.

::Give him time. He hates changes and you are a big one. He will see that you are a good mech.::

Smokescreen gave Streetwise a soft smile. ::Thanks, Streetwise, for sticking up for me.::

Streetwise put an arm around Smokescreen, being careful of his wings, “I said nothing that is not true. You are great.”

Smokescreen shifted closer to Streetwise and enjoyed the feeling of the arm around his frame. It felt so nice. He had never done this before. His spark felt warm under his sparkplates, but then he always felt that when he was near Streetwise.

“You are great too, I ah...” he flushed not knowing what to say.

“You what?” Streetwise said in a teasing tone.

Smokescreen shrugged, cheek plates flushing brighter. His optics flitted to where Blades was still ignoring them. “I, I ah, I like you. A lot.”

He felt like his faceplates were about to melt off he was so embarrassed. What if Streetwise did not feel the same? What if he lost him as a friend after this? He didn’t know what to do. He had never felt like this before at all.

To his surprise, he was pulled into a gentle, chaste kiss in response. He blinked and broke the kiss finding himself staring up at the softly smiling Streetwise. “I like you a lot too, Smokescreen.” 

“Oh,” Smokescreen murmured, looking up at Streetwise with a dazed expression on his faceplates. He had not expected that. He felt warm all over, “Oh.” He shut his mouth knowing he sounded like he was glitching. His lips still tingled from the kiss, pleasantly, but he didn’t know what to do or say in response to THAT. 

Streetwise leaned in stroking a hand across Smokescreen’s doorwings, “That bad?” 

Smokescreen pressed his doorwing into the touch and shook his helm, “I-I liked it. I, I don’t know what to do. I have never, done, anything like this before.”

Streetwise gave him a look of wonder, “Never? Was- was that your first kiss? I am honored and mortified. I apologize for rushing you if you feel that I was too pushy. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Smokescreen looked at him and smiled gently, “I am not afraid. I just don’t know what I am supposed to do.”

Streetwise moved his servo to the small of Smokescreen’s back and rubbed small circles soothingly. “That is fine, Smokey. We will go as slow as you need.”

Smokescreen gave him a little, pleased smile. “N-not too slow I hope.” He leaned into Streetwise’s touch. He was unsure of what to do or even how any of this would work, but he was sure of how he felt. His spark warmed knowing it wasn’t just one sided.

Streetwise chuckled, “We’ll see.” 

Groove made a snorting sound where he was sitting across the aisle, and Smokescreen’s optics widened as he realized that they had all been listening in. He had tuned them out enough to forget that Streetwise’s brother’s were all there.

He felt his blush return as he looked up to find both Groove and First Aid watching Streetwise and him. Oh dear. He burrowed his faceplates against Streetwise’s chest in mortification. Streetwise pet his helm, “It’s okay, Smokey. They are good mechs.”

“Yeah, we won’t mess with you little mech. You look so cute with Street though.”

“Cute? I thought he looked like a whore, clinging to him like that. What? Afraid you won’t get your credits?”

“Blades!” Streetwise bellowed, “Apologize to him! Now!”

“I won’t, and you can’t make me, “ Blades glowered back. “I can’t believe you are willing to make a fool out of yourself over him.” 

Streetwise’s optics narrowed, “I can and I will. I won’t tolerate you talking to Smokey like that, ever. I care about him and you are just going to have to get used to it.” 

“Like it’s gonna last, he’s just an attention whore.” 

Smokescreen trembled, “Why are you being like this? I’ve never done anything to you.”

Blades gave him a condescending look, “You are trying to ruin my brother, what is there to like? Why should I be nice to you?”

Smokescreen shook in Streetwise’s arms. He could feel the coolant welling up in his optics. He tried to fight them back, he didn’t want to cry in front of Blades. He didn’t know what the mech had against him. He lost the fight though and his tears ran down his faceplates and dripped onto Streetwise’s arm.

“Oh Smokey! It’s okay. Don’t cry. He is just being a glitch. It’ll be okay.”

“Oh great, now he cries. What a sparkling. Wenh wenh, turn on the coolant and make mechs feel sorry for the poor sparkling.”

“ENOUGH! Stop it Blades, right now!” Hot Spot did not look happy from what Smokescreen could see through his tears.

Blades glared at his brother and leader. “I don’t know why you are defending him too. He’s trying to take Streetwise away from us.”

“I am not,” Smokescreen said, “I would never do that.” 

“Riiight. You just fling yourself at mechs for the fun of it, I know your kind. You are just a whorebot.”

“I am n-not. I’ve n-never even done that,” Smokescreen whimpered.

“Yeah right. You had better have First Aid scan you for viruses. I am sure that he is full of them.”

Smokescreen sobbed and buried his helm against Streetwise. “I-I’m not! I haven’t! S-stop! P-please!”

Hot Spot grabbed Blades by the rotor, “Enough! You are coming up to the cab. I’m so sorry Smokescreen.”

Smokescreen whimpered, “I’ve n-never d-done anything.” 

“Shhhh....I know you are a goodbot,” Streetwise murmured, gathering Smokescreen closer and petting his back until the young bot’s crying finally stopped.

“W-why would he say th-those things?” 

Streetwise sighed, “Jealousy, I guess. Don’t listen to him. We know you are a goodbot. Blades is just being an aft.” He tilted up Smokescreen’s face looking down at him. “You know I care about you right?”

“Y-yes.”

Streetwise smiled, “And I know that you are not any of the things he called you. I know that they are not true in the least bit. I know he hurt you by saying them, but it doesn’t matter to me except that I am sad he does not see how wonderful you are.”

Smokescreen cuddled against Streetwise and let the older mech rub soothing circles beneath his doorwings. A servo on his shoulder made him look up and he saw Groove and First Aid giving him worried looks. “Smokescreen? We are sorry about what Blades said. We know that it is not true as well. You are a good mech, and a good mech for Street. We are so sorry Blades upset you like this.”

Smokescreen felt shocked, he didn’t expect them to side with him. Not against their own brother. He ducked his head, flushing all over again, “Thank you,” he finally said softly. 

“You make Streets happy,” Groove winked at him, “How could we not like that.” 

First Aid nodded in agreement. “He just doesn’t understand what you went through. Give it time. He’s just...mistrusting of strangers, and he never has liked change.” 

“I guess not,” Smokescreen whispered, and turned his face against Streetwise’s plating.

Streetwise hummed and pet Smokescreen’s helm, “It’s get better, cyberfly.”

Smokescreen looked up at Streetwise curiously, “Cyberfly?”

Streetwise laughed, “When you are happy, your door wing panels flutter like a cyberfly’s back on Cybertron. I used to love watching them flutter around the crystal gardens back in Praxus. They were so lovely- just like you.” 

Smokescreen flushed all over again, his cheekplating took on a bright pink hue and he ducked his head again not knowing how to respond to such a thing.

::Someone has it baaaad,:: Groove laughed in Streetwise’s processor. ::Not that I blame you, mech. If you hadn’t gone for him, I think I might have. He’s a cutie.::

::Groooooove.::

::He’s right,:: First Aid piped in, ::Never seen you fall for someone like this. I can’t blame you,:: he added slyly.

Streetwise glared at both of them over Smokescreen’s helm. ::The both of you are horrible.::

Smokescreen tilted his head up, “Is something wrong?”

Streetwise smiled at him, “No, no. Nothing is wrong. My brothers are just mocking me again. That is what brother’s are supposed to do though, I suppose. Mock each other when they can.”

Smokescreen looked at him, puzzled. “I never do that with Prowl. I can’t even imagine doing that to Prowl. It seems wrong.”

At once Groove froze and a burst came across the bond, ::Prowl?! You are tying to court Prowl’s brother?!! Are you mad?!! I didn’t even know he had a brother!::

::Hush!:: Streetwise gave Groove a flat look. “That is also normal, Smokescreen. Prowl is more of a creator figure to you than a sibling any more. That is natural.”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t even remember our creators, not really. I was very small when they...yeah. I thought I had lost Prowl too.”

::You are crazy. What is Prowl going to say when he finds out?:: Groove burst out, making Streetwise hiss.

::He already knows. Do you think I would begin to court him otherwise?::

Groove pulled a face, :Guess not, Bro. I just don’t want you to be taken apart piece by piece. That is what Jazz does, yah know?::

::If it was Jazz, they would never find my frame. Prowl would just bury me in a cell for the rest of eternity for hurting him. Smokescreen is in between being a younger brother and Prowl’s creation. Prowl raised him after Praxus fell. He is so young Groove. He...he should barely be in his adult frame if this was before the war.::

Groove stared at Streetwise, ::Primus! He is that young?::

Streetwise nodded at Groove, “It is okay, Smokescreen. I know I would have been as upset if I had thought I had lost one of my brothers.”

“I thought he didn’t want me. He left me with Alpha Trion, and I don't’ think Alpha wanted to deal with a youngling really anymore than Prowl did.” 

“Maybe they were just scared for your safety.” 

Smokescreen frowned, “No...he...Alpha hid something in my frame. A Key. It caused all kinds of trouble. I think that is why Alpha Trion insisted that I get my final upgrade. It was a convenience.”

Streetwise gave Smokescreen a worried look, briefly looking at First Aid who looked equally concerned. “A key? What do you mean? What kind of trouble? You’re a good mech, you don’t seem like the kind to run into trouble. Believe me after some of the younglings we have on ship, I know what trouble looks like.”

::Key? Aid, do you know anything about a key?::

::No idea. Prowl didn’t say anything to me. I’ll let him know when we get back to the Axiom. Try and calm Smokescreen down for the moment.::

Streetwise rubbed the edge of Smokescreen’s doorwings until the mech relaxed against him, a faint purr coming from his chassis. “We will land soon,” he said, his hands not stopping their movement. 

“I wish you could have seen it before this happened,” Smokescreen said unhappily, “The humans were so interesting.” 

“I’m sure they were,” Streetwise said, looking over Smokescreen’s helm.

::Maybe we should ask Optimus about the keys, I don’t think stressing out Smokescreen anymore would be a good idea,:: First Aid said over the bond.

::He’s not as fragile as you seem to think.::

::He may not be as strong as you think he is either. Don’t push him too much, Street. He may be in a mech frame but his processor is still more of a younglings.::

::I understand.::

“Tell me about the ‘humans’ Smokescreen. What were they like?”

Smokescreen smiled at Streetwise, “They were amazing. They were so much like us but different! The sparkling humans who came to the base were so interesting: they brought games and movies and music and shared them. They….they were so alive, and now they are gone.”

“Maybe there are survivors. You thought they might be taken by the cons?” 

Smokescreen’s doorwings quivered in distress, “That would be worse. They would hurt them. They tried to before.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Streetwise said. 

“It’s fine. I just miss them. They were family. We all thought so. Jack was so brave, and so was Miko. She would do anything. It was crazy. She was so small, but she wasn’t afraid of anything. She---just,” he shook his helm. “And then there was Raf. He was like a little Ratchet. It was odd, now though. He understood Bee.”

“What is so odd about that? Bumblebee speaks fine.”

“He didn’t before he...died. His vocalizer was still damaged and he could only speak in basic code. Most humans could not understand him, Rafael did from the very start. It was wonderful to see them together. Bumblebee was like...like you and your brothers seem to be.”

Streetwise smiled, “So they were like brothers? How sad to lose that like this.”

Smokescreen curled against Streetwise, “Yes it is.”

OoOoOoOo

Smokescreen was more than halfway to recharge by the time they finally landed. Streetwise shook him gently until he finally uncurled.

“We’re there, ready to go?” Streetwise asked as he got up and offered his hand to Smokescreen. 

Smokescreen took his hand, holding on tightly as they all moved to disembark. “Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Still he smiled and let Streetwise lead him through the ship. 

“If you do not think you can do this, then you and I can stay on the ship.”

Smokescreen shook his helm, “No. I need to do this.”

Streetwise stayed close to Smokescreen, going so far as wrapping a protective arm around his shoulder. He would make sure that Smokescreen stayed safe.

They left the ship, moving across the cybernetic field full of half-way familiar growths. It was eerie how much it looked like Cybertron, and how different it was at the same time. Streetwise held onto him as they walked, and that at least helped Smokescreen.

“We should move to the closest town, they are probably taking refuge in the ruins...if there is anyone left,” Smokescreen said flatly. He gripped Streetwise’s hand and held on tightly, feeling lost.

They had not landed near Jasper, to which Smokescreen was thankful. he didn’t think he could handle going back there. Not yet. The town they finally approached appeared larger, and just as deserted.

The twisted remains of the humans vehicles littered the roadway leading into the town. It was a grim and terrible sight. Smokescreen looked out and saw First Aid kneeling next to the frame of a car. “Aid, that is not alive. It was one of the humans’ transports.”

Aid looked at him in surprise, “Are you sure? These look so Cybertronian!”

Smokescreen nodded. “Yes, they do. We took on the appearance of the transports to hide in plain sight.”

Streetwise drew Smokescreen close to him, “That is very clever of you, Smokescreen.”

“I guess,” Smokescreen said mournfully. “None of this would have happened if we had not ended up here.” 

“You don’t know that,” Streetwise whispered, “The Cons could have some here anyway.” 

They moved farther into the ruins, peering into buildings and around wreckage, but they did not find anything. It was eerily quiet. Too quiet to Smokescreen’s audials.

The town should be filled with bustling humans going about their lives, small animals filling the air with their sounds. He could see what looked like it had been a park, with the remains of a sparkling play area still standing. It was so empty and sad looking now.

Streetwise put a servo on Smokescreen’s as he paused looking at the park. “Smokescreen? What’s wrong?”

Smokescreen pointed to the barren park. “That park should be filled with human sparklings right now. Running, laughing, playing- their creators or sibling watching over them from the sides. Now it is empty.”

Streetwise opened his mouth, but he did not what to even say to that. “I’m sorry you had to see all of this,” he finally said, and gave Smokescreen’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Come on, let’s move on.” They moved through the park, passing some of the odd new foliage that rose up towering over them. They were nothing like any growth on cybertron, large metal trunks with metal bits dangling from them. 

“I wish I could have seen this place before, It was very different, wasn’t it?” Streetwise murmured.

“I have image captures if-if you want to see them later. If that is okay?” 

“It should be, I...I think I should talk to Prowl formally, if you really want me to court you. I know this isn’t a good time but...” 

“It’s fine,” Smokescreen said glad for something to take his processor off their current problems. “I do want that.”

“Hey, lovebirds, over here. I think we found something,” Groove called.

Smokescreen and Streetwise moved towards Groove, but Smokescreen froze and then scrambled back before they got much closer. “Primus! Not more!”

Streetwise went to his side at once, “Smokes? What do you mean, ‘more’?”

Smokescreen leaned against Streetwise as he began to sob. “That- that.../thing// is what is left after a human tries to turn cybertronian. Either they die at the beginning or they end up like.../that//.”

Streetwise threw another look at the mangled remains and shuddered at the idea that it had once been alive and gone through such agony. “Oh.”

“Some may have made it through,” Hot Spot said, “We should keep looking. Where do you think they would go if they did make it?”

Smokescreen still trembled, “Someplace they t-thought of as safe. I don’t know the k-kids always w-went to a school. Maybe they would go there. Or their homes, but they wouldn't fit in them anymore.”

Hot spot nodded, “Fine lets go then. We will separate into groups of two and go through the town like a grid.”

“Like a search and rescue?” Groove asked. 

“Exactly,” said First Aid. “I’ll go with Groove,” he said, grabbing the cyclebots hand and pulling him away. 

Hot Spot nodded, “Blades with come with me. So Streetwise, stay with Smokescreen. Keep him safe or Prowl will have all of our plating melted down and the give us to Jazz’ Ops bots.”

Streetwise smiled at his brother and put an arm around Smokescreen’s waist. “Come on, Smokey. Let’s go see if we can find this ‘school’ you mentioned.”

Smokescreen snuggled as close to Streetwise as he could. He felt so safe with Streetwise, safe in a way he had not felt since Prowl had left him behind.

“There should be signs,” Smokescreen said. “It’s a shame the internet went down. They had an information web anyone could access. It reminded me of home. It was not nearly as advanced, but they were getting there.” 

“Yes, it is a shame,” Streetwise said as they walked through what seemed to be a main road. They passed a green sign that had some writing on it that Streetwise could not even fathom, but it made Smokescreen become very excited.

“Oh, it’s down there,” he said pulling on Streetwise and leading him to a side road. “It’s not even far. It’s a high school. Like Jack went to. I sometimes picked him up when Arcee couldn’t.” 

“High school? How odd that they would put an education center in a place that would be more difficult to get to. How did the ones who attended it arrive? Or could human’s fly?”

Smokescreen shook his helm, “No, humans could not fly. Not by themselves anyway. They had flying transports but they were for longer distances. A high school is a school designed for older sparklings- ones who were more younglings and young mechs than sparklings.”

“Oh, how odd. So...they had different types of schools then?” Streetwise asked trying to understand.

“Yeah, they went to school a long time...I mean for them. They don’t live nearly as long as we do. It’s sad. They were...” he shrugged, and looked away. “We should go. It’s close.” The building finally rose up before them, taking up most of a block. “There,” Smokescreen nodded, “We just need to find one of the larger openings.”

“What about that tall part?” 

“That is the gymnasium. I think that’s what they called it. I guess we could start there.”  
“Good idea, Smokescreen. It looks like we would fit in there fairly easily. How do you want to get into the building? The doors look very small.”  
Smokescreen pointed at the doors, “The part in the middle that divides the doorway are often removable. If we can get it out of the way, i should be able to squeeze in.”

“Be careful, Smokescreen. I don’t want you to get hurt. In fact, I should go.”

“We will both go,” Smokescreen said, “I’m not waiting out here. It would be safer if we stick together,” Smokescreen said already moving to the doors. He found the bottom that released the divide fairly easily and took it out, propping both doors open. He ducked, slipping easily into the large room on the other side.

Streetwise followed close behind, his optics wide as he took in the room. “Why is this so large if they are so small?” 

“They played games in here,” Smokescreen said. “Sorta like lobbing. They also had foot races and all kinds of other things. Not that my humans were much into any of that, I guess.”

“Oh? What were your humans into then?”

Smokescreen smiled as he thought back, “They liked to play games on their computers; they were primitive but fun. Miko played music, Jack had a job. Rafael helped Ratchet and studied. He is so smart. He...was so smart.”

Streetwise put his servo on Smokescreen’s shoulder and drew him closer as he began to cry again. “He was so little Streetwise. So young and small.”

Streetwise didn’t know what to say to make it better. He held Smokescreen tightly, rocking him until the crying finally stopped. “I know it hurt, cyberfly.” 

“I hope they are still functioning, but I’m also scared that they are and the cons are hurting them,” Smokescreen whispered, and finally pulled away.

“Understandable,” Streetwise said, taking Smokescreen’s hand he pulled him further into the dark room.

::Any sign of these ‘humans’ on your patrol, Streetwise?::

::Nothing yet. Smokescreen and I found the education center and are looking for signs of possible survivors.::

::Let us know if you find anything.::

::Will do, Hot Spot.::

Streetwise stood up and helped Smokescreen catch his balance. “Are you alright, Smokescreen? We can go back if you need to.”

“I’m fine. I want to find the survivors if there is any,” Smokescreen said, “I’ll be fine.” he straightened his spinal strut, and looked about sharply.

“If you really think so,” Streetwise said, watching Smokescreen move cautiously across the room and towards a corridor. He heard a skittering noise as he turned, and saw a figure duck in the shadows of the hallway.

“Hello?” Smokescreen called, optics wide as he noticed what Streetwise was staring at.

There were more rustling sounds from the hallway. As Streetwise edged towards the hallway, he froze and then spun as he heard a scream from Smokescreen. “Smokescreen!”

Smokescreen lay on the ground, writhing as his frame was shocked with electricity. It crackled across his frame in bright arcs that scared him to his spark. He moved forward to help him, and a voice boomed out, “FREEZE! DON’T MOVE!”

“You’re hurting him, please stop, he’s a youngling.” Streetwise gasped, hunching over Smokescreen’s frame.

::Frag, guys. I need you here now. We’ve encountered HOSTILES. Smokey’s down.:: Streetwise yelled frantically over his bond, sending his brother’s their coordinates. 

“Shut your trap,” A closer voice said, moving out of the shadows the mech hefted a weapon, pointing it as Streetwise’s head.

Smokescreen moaned as the charge finally abated. “W-what happened?”  
::We’re on our way, Bro,:: Groove said over the bond. ::Sit tight and stay alive.::

::I am on it. I’m just...frag, I don’t even know how bad Smokey is hurt.::

“Who the fuck are you? What are you doing here? This is our territory!”

Streetwise tried to make himself look as unthreatening as he could. If it had just been him, he would have been tempted to do something stupid like trying to charge at the unknown mech. However, he had Smokescreen to worry about, and the poor mech looked to be in bad shape as it was.

Prowl and Jazz were going to kill him! Slowly!

Smokescreen blearily reached towards Streetwise, and it was all Streetwise could do to keep from rushing to his side. He looked so vulnerable laying like that. He needed to protect Smokescreen!

“Frag it, I’m Streetwise, and this is Smokescreen. We were searching for survivors.”

“What the fuck kind of names are those,” one of the mechs said. 

“Maybe they are aliens. They’re the ones that fucked everything up,” another said. 

“What? No, we weren’t even in the system yet,” Streetwise blurted out. He inched closer to Smokescreen, grabbing his hand and holding on tightly. “We wouldn’t do this. We are Autobots. We just...Don’t do stuff like this.” 

“Autobot? What the fuck is that? And if you didn’t do it like you claim, then I be you know who did. That is if you aren’t lying of course. Now, Streetfly, who are you and what are you doing here. Choose your word carefully, or you friend plays with sparky again.”

Streetwise looked at Smokescreen where he lay trembling in fear on the floor. Rouge crackles of electricity flared up here and there as he watched. His poor cyberfly. “My name is Streetwise. I am an Autobot. That is Smokescreen, he is also an Autobot.” 

“We d-didn’t d-do this,” Smokescreen cried out. “W-were looking f-for some f-friends. Children.” His vocalizer spat static, and he reset it twice before he could manage anything else. “R-rafeal E-esquivel, J-jackson Darby, and M-miko Nakadai. P-please. We didn’t do this.” 

Streetwise vented shallowly, hoping his brothers would get there soon. he had never been so scared in his life. Scared for Smokescreen. He couldn't lose him, not when he had just found him.

“I thought that you said you weren’t here. How do you claim to know a couple of children?” The mech pointed the weapon right against Smokescreen’s helm. “Choose your next words very carefully. If I don’t like what I hear, your friend here has a very bad day.” 

Streetwise flared his doorwings to their widest, trying to pick up any motion and sensation. He couldn’t risk Smokescreen being hurt any further. “I was not here. Smokescreen was. He was with a small unit that worked with a government, on this continent.”

The mech scowled, “Really, why would you do that. Why did the government do that?”

“W-we worked with A-Agent Fowler. H-hewas our l-liason,” Smokescreen said, “W-we had c-come here f-following a hostile g-group and were h-helping the humans fight them.” 

“Fowler? You mean William Fowler?” One of the mechs said and stared at Smokescreen hard. “What happened to him?” 

Smokescreen shivered, “He didn’t make it. He died. Nurse Darby died. I can’t find the kids.” 

The gun eased away, the mech’s arm transforming back into a hand. “You know who did this then?” 

Smokescreen trembled, “Y-yes.The group we’re fighting- the Decepticons. They used a device that was supposed to revive our planet to cyberform Earth. We- we tried to stop them but it was just the seven of us against their army. We were outnumbered.”

“Cyberform? Is that what you call it? What happened to your planet? Why did you do this to us?”

“Our planet is in ruins, it was razed in our war. I don’t know why they did this to Earth,” he trembled, “I don’t understand any of it. T-they could have just gone to Cybertron.” 

The mech stepped back, and frowned as he considered what Smokescreen had said. “What do you think?” He asked the other mech with them, he only shrugged, optics still fixed on the two Praxians.

“Seems to be telling the truth, I guess.” 

Smokescreen watched them, they were both a bit bigger than him, heavily armoured. It was hard to tell in the dim light though, one was green and the other Tan. They reminded him of Bulkheads alt-mode, but...smaller, leaner.

Streetwise inched closer to Smokescreen, checking the smaller mech over for damaged worriedly. “Are you okay?” 

Smokescreen leaned against Streetwise, “I..I can’t seem to feel my wings. I keep getting error messages from them when I try. I’m scared.”

“Shh, Smokey. It’ll be okay. We’ll get through this and have Aid fix you up when we get back to the ship. He’ll have you as good as new in no time at all.”

The two mechs seemed to be having a quiet argument between them for a long moment. “Alright, back away from him. Here is what is going to happen. You are going to take me to see whoever is in charge of you. Your friend here, stays with my friends. When I get brought back, you get him back. Understand?”

Streetwise’s optics widened, “He needs medical attention. Let him go back, I will stay.” He exchanged a glance with Smokescreen, “The one in charge isn’t on Earth. He...would react very badly if you held Smokescreen.”

“Why would he care about another soldier?” one said, optics narrowing.

“He’s not ‘another’ he is his brother. His Guardian. He would not react well to him being left here.”

“You’re machines, what the fuck.” 

“We are not. We are cybernetic lifeforms,” Streetwise said, looking offended. “We aren’t drones.” 

“Wait- so you’re saying this thing has a brother? How the fuck does that happen? They get built in the factory?”

Streetwise scowled looking even more offended, “We are not built in factories! He and his brother had the same creators, parents you call them.”

The green mech gave them a disbelieving look, “Right. Robots have parents. How would that even work?”  
Smokescreen blushed and turned his face towards Streetwise, the embarrassment clear in his voice, “A-actually a lot like it does for humans. The only difference is that we require sparks as well to create.”

“Wait-wait-wait! What-! You- Wait!” The green mech sputtered in shock.

“Ha! I told you!” Another mech came out of the shadows, this one a dark red with racing stripes. He- he also had his panel open and his spike out. “I told you it was a dick! I told you!”

Smokescreen blinked for one moment at the mech, faceplates flushing hot. Streetwise sputtered behind him, “What the frag, put your spike up.” He put a hand over Smokescreen’s optics.

“How’d you know my name?” the red mech stopped, and stared.

“I didn’t,” Streetwise hissed, “I meant your interface equipment, what the pit is wrong with you?”

Smokescreen peeked around Streetwise’s hands getting redder if anything.

The red mech stared, “You mean this is a spike? What the fuck? Are you joking?” 

“No, I’m not joking, put it away,” Streetwise said, doorwings flaring out in agitation. He wondered when his brothers would arrive. It would have to be soon. He hoped it would be soon. He didn't want to have to deal with THIS on top of Smokescreen’s injury. He tried not to dwell on that. Prowl was never going to let him court Smokescreen now.

This was not going to end well for him at all. Between Blades’ actions and words along with Smokescreen being hurt and taken hostage when he was supposed to be protecting him, he would be lucky if Prowl would let him be on the same ship as Smokescreen.

The red mech was trying to push his spike back into his panel but seemed to be having trouble. He had turned around but all that had accomplished was baring his valve to them instead. What a vulgar mech!

“Would you please stop flashing us? I don’t want to see your spike or your valve! Have you no sense of propriety?”

“Valve? Wait, what’s that?” The red mech reached back touched his valve blatantly. “What the fuck is that? Oh god! What is that? Shit! I have a pussy?! You made me a girl?”

The green and tan mechs stared at their companion who finally managed to find the manual release and shut his panel.

“You aren’t a girl,” Smokescreen said peeking around Streetwise’s hands again, “You’re a mech. You don’t look anything like a femme. They aren’t really girls either though, not like humans. They have spikes and valves too.”  
“Ugh,” the red mech frowned, wiping his hands on his armour, “What the hell. I don’t want that.” 

::ETA, Groove. Please get me out of this madhouse, Smokey’s been hurt. He can’t feel his doorwings.::

::Stay calm, we are almost there.:: First Aids reply came. ::What happened>?::

::He was electrocuted, I think it blew some of his circuits. He’s alert though. Doesn’t seem to be in too much pain.::

::Good. Keep him calm. ETA in three breems.::

“It’s not so bad,” Smokescreen said, “I’ve heard.” 

That got the red mech’s attention, “What do mean, ‘you’ve heard’? Don’t you have this ‘valve’ thing? Let me see!”

The red mech moved towards Smokescreen and Streetwise moved between the mech and Smokescreen. “You won’t touch him like that!”

“Spike! Stop! Go back to the others! You wouldn’t like anyone pawing at you like that.”

The mech, who appeared to really be called ‘Spike’, gave a wink and smirked, “It would depend on who was doing the pawing, Lennox.”

“Just go!”

The red mech seemed to pout a moment before he actually left, heading back to where he had came from. Streetwise wondered how many others were hiding here. “There are others on their way.” He finally said, watching Smokescreen for signs of distress.

The green mech, narrowed his optics, “I want you to get ahold of the one in charge then.” 

“This was meant to be a search and rescue, we were going to take whomever we found back with us.” 

“Well, it’s not going to go that way now is it?” the mech called Lennox said, “We don’t even know if we can trust you.” 

“No, I guess you don’t,” Streetwise said in exasperation. “Just as we can’t trust you. You already hurt Smokescreen for no reason. He had no weapons out and we had not threatened anyone.”

“Really? You broke into our home and we are not expected to protect ourselves?”

::Streetwise? We are outside your location. Is everything okay? How is Smokescreen?::

::No change. I am going to stay here. Have Aid come get Smokescreen. One of the mech’s will go with you. He wants to see the one in charge and doesn’t trust us.::

::Got it. I’m coming in,:: came First Aid’s reply.

There were pedsteps and soon First Aid came into sight, arms up. “Smokescreen, how are you feeling?” He edged around the mechs and was soon at Smokescreen’s side and jacking into his medical port.

“Who is this?” Lennox asked, watching First Aid suspiciously.

“First Aid, he’s one of my brothers,” Streetwise said, “He’s going to take you to the rest of our crew and to see out commander.” 

“He just blew a few relays, it’s not as bad as it could have been,” First Aid said, “Come’on Smokey, lets get you on your feet.” First Aid frowned at Streetwise, clearly uneasy with leaving him there. “Who is going with us?”

“I am.” The green mech moved towards First Aid who had Smokescreen leaning heavily against him now that he was on his feet. “Keep an eye on this guy, Epps. I still don’t trust them.”

“You going to be alright, Streetwise?”

“I think so, Aid. They have to keep me safe to get him back after all. Just try and hurry back. Make sure Smokescreen gets taken care of. Prowl is going to kill me for this.”

First Aid helped Smokescreen limp out of the building, not watching to see if the green mech was following. “Hot Spot is going to land our craft here so we won’t have to take you far. How are you feeling?” 

“I’m okay, First Aid, I just don’t want to leave Street behind. Can’t you leave me here too, please. What if something happens to him?” 

“Nothing is going to happen to him as long as you bring me back safely,” the green mech said. “I’m Lennox, by the way.” He watched Smokescreen while they were waiting, assessing the little mech. “You care about that other...er...mech?” 

Smokescreen blinked at him, and shut his mouth tight. “What do you think?” he snapped before he could stop himself, and then shrank away, pressing himself against First Aid. Groove moved to join them and all too soon he was saved from answering from their shuttle landing.

Hot Spot glared at the green mech, but his optics softened when he saw Aid and Smokescreen. “Is he okay, Aid? How hurt is he?”

“He fried a few relays and is having trouble with his doorwings. Prowl is going to kill us.”

“Great. Do what you can while we are in route. I’ll comm and let the Axiom know that we have an injured mech onboard as well as a….neutral wanting information.”

::How bad is he really? Where is Streetwise?::

::He stayed. It was him or Smokescreen. The mech’s group doesn’t trust us. They are holding Streetwise as a hostage.::

Hot Spot growled angrily. He did not like having his brother treated like this or that Smokescreen had been hurt so badly.

::Gets worse, Spot. Prowl is never going to let Street court Smokescreen now.::

::Frag it, maybe he can be reasoned with.:: Hot Spot replied, as he moved into the craft and up to the front.

::Prowl...reasonable? You are funny today,:: Groove chimed in. 

The green mech followed them in, looking about curiously even though he tried to appear not to. He mimicked them, strapping himself in, but was otherwise quiet. 

::What do you think? Will Streetwise be okay?:: Hot Spot asked First Aid.

::He wasn’t injured. I don’t think they will hurt him. I only saw one other mech though, so I don’t know how many were there.::

The trip was long, and the silence uncomfortable, there was an air of relief when they finally landed in the dock. There was a stretcher already waiting along with Swoop, as soon as the Smokescreen was finally stretched out on it they both took off to the medbay not waiting around for Prowl and Jazz to make their appearance.


	5. Chapter 5

Lennox stood back, watching. He had not known what to expect, but it wasn’t this. He had not known what he thought aliens would act like or what their ship would look like, but this seemed so….normal.

The robots were working like a good ground crew on the smaller ship, apparently getting it ready to go as soon as possible. There was a medic waiting for the mech that they had zapped and Lennox was starting to feel more regret for doing it.

Another robot came in and made a beeline for the mech on the stretcher. “Hot Spot! How did this happen? Where is your brother, he was supposed to be watching him!?”

“He is still planetside, sir. The mechs we encountered wanted to hold Smokescreen hostage while one of their own came with us. Streetwise took his place. We weren’t exactly expecting hostiles, sir.” 

The white mech’s optics flashed bright with what Lennox could only imagine was anger as they finally settled on him, “Did you do this?” The mech’s wing flared out, both sets. Will would have been fascinated had it clearly not been a threat gesture directed at him.

“No, sir, my partner did. It was not our...intention to do him any lasting harm. They came into our home.” 

If anything the mech’s armour puffed out further, and he would have moved closer had a smaller mech not grabbed his arm, “Prowler, yah need to get control of yerself. Smokey is gonna be fine. It sounds like a misunderstanding.” 

“Release me Jazz, I do not care if it was misunderstanding. He and his partner injured him when he was unarmed and trying to help. It is an insult to our family.”

That did not sound good at all. “We did not mean to hurt him so badly. We didn’t know it was so harmful to your kind.” although now that they did know, they would keep it and make more mobile versions in case these things were dangerous.

“See, Prowler? He didn’t mean to. Hey, Aid? How hurt is he?”

“He blew out a few relays, his doorwings are the worst. He’ll need a full sensory recalibration to get them back online.”

“But it is nothing irreparable?” Jazz pressed. 

“No, it’s not. A sol in the medbay and he should be fine. We’re going to take him there now,” he said meaningfully, and helped Swoop push the stretcher away.

“See, ah told you Prowler,” Jazz said, grabbing the mechs hand. “Why don’t we take this to yer office.” He nearly pulled the doorwing mech across the hanger and motioned for Lennox to follow.

Lennox frowned, trailing behind them, the visored mech looked...odd. His front distended in an odd sort of way. It just didn’t look right. The rest of the mech was slim and sleek. He chattered on as they reached the office in question. 

The robot with wings sat down at the desk while the other perched on the corner of the desk. He had an epiphany moment as the scene suddenly became more familiar in the office like setting. The other robot had to be a ...what had the one in the gym called it? Oh! A femme. A girl robot. One with a huge rack.

Judging by the way the two were interacting either married or the stick up the ass robot was having fun times with his sexy secretary. Great, he was trapped in an alien version of _Mad Men_. Verity and Carly were going to be so pissed about this.

“Excuse me, miss? I wanted to thank you for defusing the situation.”

The black and white visored robot stared at him for a long moment, “Miss?” The robot canted it’s head to the side, and then a grin inched across it’s faceplates.

Lennox gave the robot a sideways glance, “You two are...um...” He blinked back at the visored robot who was clearly laughing at him. 

“If ah am understanding the translation upload correctly, yah...think I’m a femme?” It laughed harder, and the winged robot unstuck the stick long enough for his lip to twitch up into an almost smile.

Lennox just stared and wondered what was so funny, “You’re not?”

“Nah, mech. What made yah think I was femme?”

Lennox fumbled for an appropriate explanation, “I, ah, thought you and the other mech were together with how you’re sitting on his desk. Plus, you have a large bust.”

The visored...mech, looked puzzled, “Bust? What did ah break? Oh, ah see! Pfft. Mech, ah ain’t got ‘mammary glands’. This is just my chassis. But yeah, me and Prowler here are together.”

Well, he had been half right. So he was in a gay _Mad Men_ in space. How was this his life now?

“I’m Jazz, by the way, and this is Prowl. He’s the CO of the Axiom.” He looked to the winged robot, “The crew was sent down as a search and rescue, your whole group would have been welcome tah have returned with them.” 

Lennox canted his head to the side, “If you were in my place would you have blindly gone?”

Jazz shrugged, “Point taken.” 

Prowl rumbled behind him, “What exactly do you want?” 

“I want answers. Who are you? What do you want? Are you the ones responsible for what happened to our planet? What is going on?”

The winged robot nodded. “Logical questions. I am Prowl, Commanding Officer of the Axiom and acting Commander in Chief of the Autobot forces. We Autobots have been engaged in an on going war against an opposing faction known as Decepticons.”

“Autobots and Decepticons? Sounds like something from a saturday morning cartoon.”

“I assure you, it is not. Our war decimated our homeworld of Cybertron to the point that it is no longer habitable for our kind. We are here because a small group of Autobots followed a group of Decepticons here, including the Decepticon leader- Megatron. It was Megatron who used the Omega Lock on your planet, resulting in it’s cyberforming.”

“Omega Lock?”

The two robots looked at each other for a moment. “It was a tool created as a means to restore our own world. Obviously it did not turn out that way. The Decepticons used it on your world instead,” Prowl said. “And the results are as you have seen. I wish I could say that there was some way to restore it, but I am afraid there is not. We are one race, so to speak.” 

“I see,” Lennox said as he tried to take it all in. “What now?”

“I suppose that is up to you. This war has become as much your war as it is our own. You can join us in our fight.”   
“You would force us---”

“No. It is your choice. We would honor it as such. The Decepticon’s...however...would not. They will offline or conscript you. They are not reasonable.”

Lennox frowned at the robot, “And I’m supposed to take your word for it?” 

“Naturally we do not. You are free to take our word or reject it. You and your group are free to make your own choices. We merely wish to advise you to not take risks when it comes to the Decepticons. They are sneaky, stealthy, and murderers. We will return you to your comrades now. We are understandably eager to get our mech back and as you said, we are just supposed to take your word for it that he is safe.”

Lennox had to admit, the mech made good points! He would wait to see how his group took the news. It would have to be a group decision.

He nodded, “I have to talk to the others before any decision can be made. If---If we decide to join you how will we get transport back?” 

Prowl nodded, “I will have Hot Spot’s gestalt wait for your decision. They are scouting the area for any other survivors.”

“Thank you,” Lennox said, seeing that as a clear dismissal.

Jazz hopped up motioning for him to follow, “Ah’ll walk yah back.” Lennox followed still trying to figure the robot out. He was startled out of his contemplation by a racket in the hallway. Small footsteps echoed in the hallway moment before something short and little came running.

“‘Tor! ‘Tor! Ah miss you!” The little silver blur flung itself at Jazz’s legs and latched on...giggling. “‘Tor. Miss ew.”

“Frag! Bluestreak!” 

The little thing giggled louder, “Fwag! Fwag! Fwag!”

“No, NO, do not say that! Bad, Blue!” 

Lennox started as the little creature dissolved into tears, and Jazz picked him up, humming to them and pressing their helms together, seemingly having forgotten Lennox’s presence. 

“Ah, Don’t cry little, Blue. Yah know I love you. Where did you ditch Prism at?”  
The little...robot sniffed, alligator tears if Lennox over saw them and pointed back down the hall where a small robot was running towards them. “‘Rism.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Jazz. He just d-darted away. He was good all sol and I just didn’t expect him to do that.” 

Lennox looked between them all, it all suddenly clicked into place. He blinked, stared at Jazz. “Oh, hell. That’s your kid, and you are having another,” he said eye settling on Jazz’s distended abdominal plating.

Jazz blinked back at him for a moment, “Well...yeah.” 

Lennox vented loudly, and looked from the smaller mech that appeared to be the human equivalent of a teenager, and then back to Jazz nearly to the point of hyperventilating. “My daughter was turned. She’s not much bigger.” 

“OH, OH!” Jazz’s visor brightened, “Have you been giving her sparkling energon? No...you wouldn't have any. Frag, I...if you don’t come back with us I will make sure the medics get you a supply. They can’t take full strength energon. It will make them sick.” 

“I...I know...I’ve only been able to get her to keep anything down if it was filtered through my own system.” 

“Good! Keep feeding her that! Your frame produces sparkling grade energon. Ah wasn’t sure if yah frame had adjusted or not. As long as yah up yer intake, yah’ll make energon fer two. Best bet until yah get a steady source of sparkling grade.”

Lennox nodded, “Okay. Thanks. I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right. I mean, I knew what she needed as a baby but as a robot I had no idea.”

The robot smiled, “Ah’ll have Aid send a datapad with the first few basic downloads with you and see if he can do a quick check up for you. I know creators always worry.” 

Lennox laughed, “Yeah, I guess some things are universal.”

Jazz nodded, hitching Bluestreak up on his hip. The little robot stared at Lennox openly, “Who you?” He asked before hiding his helm against Jazz’s plating.

“I’m Lennox, little one, who are you?”

“Buetreak,” the little robot said proudly, holding out little stubby arms. “Up?”

“No, bratling, he doesn’t want to hold you,” Jazz said, as he led Lennox back through the hall, Prism trailing behind them with a dejected look on his faceplates.

Lennox watched them as covertly as he could, it was all very...weird...and normal. It made his helm hurt to try to put his mind around it all. They finally ended up back in the docking area they had been in before. It was still bustling with robots going about their business as if this was all an everyday occurrence.

Maybe it was? Who was he to know what was normal for alien robots. The little one was cute though. Who brought a child on a warship though? It made no sense if they were looking for a fight.

“Hot Spot is ready to take you back, and I briefed Aid on checking on your sparkling when you get back on Earth. I would be very polite with them, they are not happy with you. The mech you forced them to leave behind is their brother. They are quite concerned for him as you can imagine.”

Lennox frowned, “Yes, I can imagine. Thank you again. I appreciate it.”

Jazz nodded, “It’s all good mech, ah hope tah see yah back here.”

“Maybe,” Lennox nodded as he made his way to where the big, cranky robot was waiting for him. The scowl on his face did not bode well at all. The white one felt equally annoyed as he passed by him. Another odd thing out of a catalogue of weirdness.

They climbed into the shuttle and an icy silence descended.

Lennox could understand where they were coming from at least. He would be pissed if he had leave one of his men behind let alone an actual sibling. He was even more certain than before that the injured robot and the one who stayed behind were in a relationship. It made him very confused, how could these things be so human?

The robot that had the look of a helicopter glared at him. “Streetwise had better be okay, or we are going to destroy that glichmouse nest you are holed up in.”

“Blades,” the white and red robot said in exasperation, “Stop it. You know what Jazz said.”

“I am sorry,” Lennox said, “If you were in my place do you really think you would have gone along without any reassurance?” 

“What-the-frag ever, I’m just---” 

“Blades,” The larger robot snapped, “Stop it. They might be coming back with us. We don’t need these hostilities.”

“They won’t hurt him,” Lennox vented, “I promise.” 

“Like that mea---” Blade’s started again only to be elbowed by the smallest of the robots.

“So, Jazz said you had a bitlet. Do you? Really?” the same robot asked, leaving Lennox blinking.

“A...what?”

“A bitlet? A sparkling? Um, in your language, infant? child, baby?”

“So you call them sparklings? Or bitlet? Yes, I have a daughter. Her name is Annabelle.”

“An-na-bell? That is an odd name.”  
Lennox frowned, they had names like ‘blades’, ‘hot spot’ and ‘first aid’ and they thought Annabelle was odd? “What is wrong with it? It is a lovely name.”

“It is just odd. What does it even mean?”

“Annabelle? It means...grace and beauty if I remember what my wife said.”

“Oh. That’s nice. Different,” the robot said in a considering tone. “You have a...wife? Is that like a bondmate?” 

Lennox shrugged, “Had. I don’t think she....I don’t think she made it. I guess it’s like a bondmate. Is that what Prowl and Jazz are...and the two of you that we first met?”

The robots exchanged looks, and the one with the blades growled, “Noooo...Streetwise and Smokescreen aren’t bondmates,” the small robot said.

Lennox frowned, and thought about it. They were all very human, and not at the same time. “I see.” 

“No, I don’t think you do,” the rude robot piped up, glaring. “I guess I should thank you for ruining that for Streetwise. I didn’t want him to bond with that glitch anyway.”

Ah, seemed like trouble in paradise. The other mechs were glaring at the rude mech, it seemed that he was alone in his opinion of the two robots. Jealousy maybe? “What do you mean ruining? If he is your brother why do you seem so happy? Were you after the same guy- er, mech?”

The robot began to sputter and tried to protest while the others all laughed at him. The smaller one got control of himself, “No! Blades is not after Smokescreen. He doesn’t like him since he thinks he’ll come between us and Streetwise. I guess we don’t have to worry about that anymore. He is right, it is ruined between Smokescreen and Streetwise now.”

“Why? It wasn’t Streetwise’s fault.” 

“He was supposed to protect Smokescreen. He failed to do that. Prowl doesn’t...well you met the mech, he’s not exactly bendable,” the small robot shrugged. “He won’t forgive Street for that.”

“That is...horrible,” Lennox said, “I mean...shouldn't it be their choice?”

“Prowl is high-caste,” the little robot frowned, “They are very...traditional. Well, mostly.”

“I---wow. That is just...so unfair,” Lennox said, shaking his helm. “Is everyone like that?” 

“Pit no. There aren’t very many from Prowl’s caste left. Hardly any at all.” 

“So that would make him what? An aristocrat? Nobility?”

The smaller robot looked thoughtful and it was bizarre how easily he could read their expressions, “I think it would be closer to royalty in your terms. In fact with most of his caste offlined, if we were ever able to revive our home world, Prowl would be the Emir of Praxus now. Which would make Smokescreen a very valuable political catch.”

“Wait- this Prowl guy would just marry off his brother to someone he didn't know?”

“Arranged bondings were very common in Praxus. Streetwise was at least Praxian which was a good starting point and the fact that both of them seemed to like each other helped as well.”

Lennox shook his head, “Wow. I...never would have guessed any of that. Was Jazz an arranged bonding?” 

“No, that actually caused an uproar. Jazz isn’t from the same city-state, and he is...not of the same caste. He’s Polyhexian, and frag, his people were merchants. They weren’t high caste. Granted they aren’t gutter mechs either, but he was not a mech that Prowl would ever have met or bonded with before the war.” 

“That is all kinds of crazy. They seem to really....I don’t know...” 

“Love each other. Yeah, not many mecha are that lucky,” Groove shrugged.

The smaller mech, First Aid, sighed, “We had hoped that Streetwise and Smokescreen would be that lucky. They seemed to fall for each other pretty hard. I don’t know what is going to happen now. Prowl is not a mech who forgives easily- if at all. Streetwise is going to be so devastated if he is told that he can’t be with Smokescreen.”

Lennox frowned, he knew that he was partially to blame for what was happening to the two robots. He felt sorry that they may have ruined a relationship. They had seemed to really care for one another.

“Why would he blame you brother though? He did what he could to keep the other robot safe?”

“It is a matter of honor,” Groove said, “From Prowl’s point of view Streetwise should have kept Smokescreen from being in danger in the first place. It is unreasonable, but it is the way of things.”

“That is so messed up.” 

“Yeah, I guess it is. Maybe things will work out somehow,” First Aid said. “I just want Street to be happy.” 

“I’m sorry things happened this way,” Lennox said. “It’s a messed up world now.” 

“We know. You were just trying to protect your home, you have a sparkling to take care of. I can understand. We just have to convince Prowl of that.”

Lennox frowned. He had much he would have to talk to the others about. It seemed better and better to ally with these ‘Autobots’. He still had no proof that he could trust them but his gut said they were telling the truth. “Prowl said you would wait while I discussed the situation with my...er...group. Will you?” 

“Yes, of course. And I have the datapads for you, whichever choice you make. I’ll look at the sparkling if that is okay? They are fragile when they are that young.”

“Thank you,” Lennox said feeling relieved about that. He still wasn’t sure how he was going to explain this all to Epps and Donnelly. It would be a relief not to have to scavenge or be the only one to watch a bunch teenagers. He had come to love the kids in the short time they had been together. They were family now, but they were also rambunctious and hard to deal with at times. Especially Verity. She was a handful.

“Do you know if there are any other groups like yours near here?” 

“Yes, but I wouldn’t term them friendly.” 

“What is wrong with them? Are they allied with the Decepticons?”

“What? No! When they...changed, they seemed to have gone insane. They act like wild animals and attack anything that enters what they see as their territory. One of my guys, Donnelly went to scout out the areas along our area and got attacked. That was why we had the trap. We thought you guys were more of the ferals when they broke in.”

“Is your friend still hurt? I can look at him when we land if you like and do some repairs if he is not hurt too badly. Otherwise I would have to take him back to the Axiom and my medbay.”

“Yeah, he’s still hurt,” Lennox sighed, “We didn’t know what to do for him. They gored one of his legs. It’s a mess.”

“I wish I have known this. I would have brought more medical supplies. Can he walk on it at all?” 

“A bit. Not long, it gives out on him, and it’s...like I said we didn’t know how to fix it.” It made Lennox feel sick, like he was letting his own people down. They had managed to keep him from bleeding out at least. Epps had used a torch he found. He still remembered Donnelly’s screams. It had scared all of the kids, sent Verity and Chip hiding for days. It was times like those he had missed Sarah the most. She would have kept them all together.

“How badly was he injured? Was he leaking fluids? Were there any visible sparks or motor function loss?”

Lennox frowned, “He was leaking fluids, badly. Epps managed to stop the bleeding with a blowtorch he found. Scared the hell out of the kids, they hid for days after they heard him screaming. It was a rough couple of days. Even now, he can barely stand. His legs were damaged as well.”

First Aid frowned, “It might be more serious than I thought. How many sparklings are there in your group? I may have to do upgrades and downloads for them as well as for your sparkling.”  
Lennox shifted not sure he wanted to tell them this yet, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Not really. “Five teenagers and Annabelle.” 

“Teenagers?” First Aid asked, “Ah, younglings. I see. It must have been difficult taking care of so many.” 

“It has been an....interesting experience,” Lennox said in a neutral tone. “They are all scared, and they have all lost their people. We all have.” 

The trip was over soon enough, Lennox was relieved when the craft finally settled down near the school. He tried to order his processor and figure out exactly what to tell Epps. 

He didn’t see a choice anymore in linking up with these robots- er, mechs. They were offering help that they desperately needed. Knowledge of repairs, supplies, as well learning exactly what they were supposed to do to stay alive like this.

“Wait, if you have five younglings what are you feeding them? Younglings are always hungry.”

Lennox gave the mech an understanding look. “Yeah, they are always hungry. Luckily, Spike had tried some of the pink stuff that bubbled up from the ground in the schoolyard. He survived and said it was alright so we had that to eat at least.”

“Pink stuff that...there is an energon spring near the place you were hiding?” Groove’s optic widened, “That is amazing. The energon springs on Cybertron dried up a long, long time ago. Mostly we end up finding it in it’s crystal from. it’s a real pain to break it down.”

“Energon?”

“Yeah that is what it’s called. Guess it’s a good thing, younglings require a lot,” Groove added.

“They do. It’s been rough,” Lennox vented. It was almost a relief to step off the ship and head back towards the school. Epps was waiting out front for them.

“Glad to see you are in one piece.” 

“They were surprisingly hospitable considering the circumstances. I think we can trust them. They have a medic who agreed to look at Donnelly. Hopefully he can get him fixed up. I need to talk to everyone before we decide anything major. It has to be a group decision since it affects the whole group’s future. There are important things that I learned and it needs to be discussed.” 

“Really? Good. Donnelly is a good man. Hopefully their medic can get him on the road to recovery at least. Poor guy has been going out of his head since he hurt his legs. Chip has been trying to help him, since he knows how that feels but it doesn’t seem to be helping much.”

“I know. I’ve seen,” Lennox said as he followed Epps inside. The went through the large room, and then through the hall to the locker room they had converted into a sleeping area. The doorway was a tight fit, but it had also slowed down intruders in the past. Delayed them long enough for Connelly, Epps or Lennox to take out the threat. 

“You’re back,” Carly exclaimed, hopping up from where she was sitting next to Chip. “Oh, Lennox! We were so worried,” she said flinging herself at him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“I missed you too, kiddo. Could you go get the others? We have important things to talk about.”

Her optics widened. “Sure! I’ll be right back,” and with that she dashed off. 

“Epps, help me move Donnelly to the medic. The sooner he gets repaired, the better. He has suffered long enough.”

Together the two men moved the third out into the main gym floor where First Aid was talking to his brothers. “You said you would be willing to take a look at my injured man? This is Donnelly. Can you help him?”

First Aid gasped at the sight of Donnelly. “Groove! Go get my medical kit from the shuttle.”

Groove’s optics widened before he took off running.

“Oh, this isn’t good. He needs to be put in a CR tank. It’s much less invasive than actual limb replacement, and frankly we are looking at that.” First Aid looked at the wounds, accepting the medical kit when Groove came back. “I’m going to give him an injection for the pain. He managed to get mangled up pretty badly. There is a crack in his spinal strut, that is what is causing most of the issue.”

“Can you fix him?” Lennox asked, hovering.

“Yes, I can. It’s just going to take some work and time. He did a number on himself. It’s a wonder he can put any weight on the leg at all. Mmm...I’m going to put in some code that will stop the pain, and then go from there.”

Lennox watched the robot work, a tension that he had not realized was inside him loosened. He looked up, seeing Epps and the kids coming out into the main room. They had a lot to talk about and not much time. If Donnelly had to go to these aliens’ ship for surgery then he was not letting him go alone.

The aliens, he hated to admit, had better structure than they did in this abandoned school. They had a hospital on their ship, doctors, food, supplies and dozens of other necessities. He would do his best to convince the others that at least for the time being to go with them.

Hopefully, they would get the support they needed from these “Autobots” to begin rebuilding their shattered world.

He left Donnelly with the robots and went to find Epps and the children, they all looked at him expectantly.

“Well,” Epps said, looking impatient. “What happened?”

“They have...a ship up there. It’s just...amazing. I don’t know Epps, I think we should take them up on their offer, at least for now. They have medical supplies, food, I just think it would be safer for now. I talked to their commanding officer, he is reasonable.” 

“Yeah? You think so?” 

“I told them we’d have to all talk it over before we did anything. It’s a group decision.”

“What if we don’t want to do?” Verity said stubbornly. “Maybe they just want to kill us.”

Carlos pushed her, “You’re so stupid. If they wanted to kill us they would have already.” 

“So why haven’t they? If they are so powerful, why don’t they just make us do what they want.”

Lennox looked around, “Where is Spike? And the alien that they left behind?”

“Spike is watching him. Why?”

“Oh lord! That is a disaster waiting to happen! Spike already offended them by flashing his robot parts at them.”

Carlos and Verity looked at him in surprise, “Wait, so Spike was telling the truth? We have like, robo-junk now? Freaky!”

Lennox stared at them for a moment, “Yes, he was telling the truth, and no...you really shouldn’t have left him alone.” He turned already heading out to find Spike, and hoped he wasn’t doing something to make their situation worse. He found them in the hallway, thankfully Streetwise seemed to be in one piece and was seemingly ignoring Spike.

“Hey, Streetwise. Your brothers are here to get you.” 

The robot jumped up to his feet, “Is Smokescreen on the Axiom?”

“Yes, he made it there safely. He’s was taken to your medical center.” 

“Oh, thank Primus!” A shaky smile spread across the robots face making Lennox feel doubly bad for what had happened. 

“Was Spike bothering you?” he asked giving the red robot a sideways glance.

“Lennox!!! I was not! Epps said to watch him. I dunno why you think I would do whatever it is you think. I really don’t know.” 

“Because I know you, Spike. That is why. As I said before, Streetwise was it? Did Spike bother you or offend you. Aside from flashing you and the other robot earlier?”

To Lennox’s shock, the robot suddenly looked offended. “I am a mech, not a drone and Smokescreen is most certainly not a drone either. I do not appreciate being insulted like that!”

Lennox looked puzzled, “Drone? Insult? I don’t understand. What did I do? What did I say?”

The rob-mech gave him an assessing look. “Perhaps you do not. A ‘robot’ is a term you have for a mindless automaton. I am not mindless. I am a person, calling me a robot would be like me calling you a...what was the term? Ah! A primate?”

Lennox thought about it. It made sense in a way. “I see. I apologize. I will try to correct myself and tell the others not to call you that.”

Streetwise nodded, “Thank you. You said my brother’s are here waiting for me?” 

“They are the medic....First Aid is taking care of one of our men.” 

Streetwise nodded, “I see. Are you going with us back?”

“Possibly, come on. I will take you to them.”

The kids were still arguing when Lennox made his way back to them with Streetwise in tow. Verity was yelling, which was nothing new. Carlos was yelling back, which was also common place enough. Epps was looking annoyed. Chip and Carly ran over nearly plowing Lennox over.

“Can’t we just go?” Chip asked. “Seriously.”

“Shut up, Chip,” Verity yelled across the room, glaring daggers at the larger mech. “Maybe we don't want to go. We don't need them.”

“We do, though,” Lennox said, rubbing his forehelm. 

“Why? Why do we need them? We are doing fine on our own!”

“No, Verity, we are not. We are not doing fine. We are surviving, barely. We can’t leave our bit of territory we have carved out without being attacked by people who have gone insane from the...change. The aliens have resources we don’t! Medics, a hospital, more food than just what the spring in the courtyard makes. They know about the frames we now have. They can help us begin to rebuild. They might even be able to help the others, make them sane again!”

Verity huffed angrily, “And if I say no and we don’t go: everyone is going to blame me, right? Fine. Let’s blindly trust strange alien robots with our lives as well as your daughter.”

Lennox vented, “I don’t see how we have any other choice.” 

Verity made a huffing sound, her glare unwavering. “Whatever, Lennox.” The winglets on her back hitched up, Flaring into an angry ‘V’. “I’ll start packing.” She stopped away, and Lennox knew she wasn’t going to forgive him for a long time.

“Hey, Will,” Epps called, “Are we going or what?” 

“Yes, we are,” he said firmly.”Is Annabelle still sleeping?” 

Epps nodded, smiling, “Mrs. Edna is watching her in the bedroom. Annabelle didn't even wake up once while you were gone. I am getting worried. She is sleeping a lot more and spending less time awake. I never thought I would miss getting woken up by a baby but I do now. Do you think their medic would take a look at her too?”

Lennox frowned, he had to agree with Epps. His daughter was sleeping far too much for someone her age. “I already asked, and he agreed. Can you have Mrs. Edna take her to him? He is the one with the visor and the mask. He seems very nice.”

“Yeah, I’ll go tell her,” Epps said already moving to do that.  
“The rest of you, pack up. We’re going,” Lennox said, moving towards the entrance to find Hot Spot. He felt nervous as he walked towards the bigger mech.

The large mech was waiting by the transport, “Well?” His tone wasn’t as snappish as before at least.

“We will go back with you. Just give us an hour to get things together.” 

Hot Spot nodded, “Fine. First Aid said it was going to be a bit while he was getting your mech ready for transport.” 

“Thanks,” Lennox said, nodding to the mech as he left and set about getting things organized. He couldn't help the niggling worry about Annabelle. He wanted her to be safe. He had already lost Sarah. The thought of losing her too was devastating.

He just had to trust that the medic would be able to help her. He had to. The medic had brought things that he said a baby might need. Maybe that was all she needed, like a vaccination or something. She would be well again in no time.

He saw Mrs.Edna moving out of the hallway that lead to the converted locker room that had been their bedrooms while they had been here. She held a familiar small bundle and Lennox hurried over and smile at his sleeping daughter.

“How is my little angel?”

Mrs. Edna looked worried, “She is sleeping a lot still and I think she might feel a little warmer than usual.”

Lennox frowned as he took his daughter from Mrs. Edna, hugging her tightly. Her little engine seemed to be running louder than normal, and that as much as the other worried him. “Thanks for watching her for me.” 

“You know I don’t mind,” Mrs. Edna shrugged, patting Lennox on the shoulder. “The kids said you brought a doctor? A robot doctor?” 

“Yeah, don’t call them robots though, they are sensitive about that I guess.” Annabelle stirred, whimpering, grabbing all of Lennox’s attention.

She reached out for him and cried her odd oily tears. He wished that he could just know what was wrong with her. He was not the only one who had heard her whimper though. First Aid had thrown a look over a shoulder only to freeze at the sight of the tiny sparkling. “You never said she was a new spark! Poor thing!”

“Do you know what is wrong with her?”

“Not until I can scan her. It might be a virus or a programming error. There are so many possibilities that it could be. Let me take a look.”

Lennox brought Annabelle over to the red and white mech, reluctantly handing his daughter over to the medic. He worriedly watched as the mech pulled out what looked like a giant tablet with a cord attached to it.

“I’m going to plug this into her medical port and do a deep scan. It won’t hurt her, I promise.” 

Annabelle whimpered, optics wide as she looked up at the strange mech.

“Oh, aren’t you a pretty one,” First Aid cooed as he scanned the bitlet. “Well, it seems to be a virus, it is a mild one luckily. I’m going to code in a patch that will take apart the virus’ coding. It is going to take a few sols for it to completely clear out of her system. I’m going to need to see her once a sol to monitor her progress.”

“A virus? So she was just sick? I am so relieved! I thought it was something more serious than that. You can give her medicine right?”

“Medicine? All I need to do is download an anti-virus patch and update her protocols. I would like to have all of your group submit to an exam. A virus can spread very easily and one of you may have it as well and just not show signs.”

That made a lot of sense. After all, they would not like people who were sick going around and getting their people sick too.

Annabelle cooed at the mech and waved her little hands up at First Aid, who seemed charmed by her in return.

“When we get back to the ship?” Lennox asked, turning he saw the others already moving that way.

“That would be easier, yes. Prowl will want you all checked over before room assignments are handed out.” He smiled down at Annabelle, “She is so charming. You are very lucky. Femmes are one of the rarer frame types. She’s going to be beautiful when she gets all of her upgrades. She is now.” The medic handed Annabelle back to Lennox who looked puzzled.

“Frame-types?” 

“Well, yes,” First Aid smiled gently, “We will get you downloads on that sort of thing when we get onto the ship. It will help you understand us and yourselves as well.”

He steered Lennox and Annabelle towards the entryway. “Come along. They already have Donnelly on the transport.”

Lennox nodded, standing in the entry and watching the group he had helped take care off get on the shuttle. Mrs. Edna paused to look at Annabelle, “She looks much better already, I guess these aliens know what they are doing.”

Verity snorted, “Right! That’s what they want you to think. See if you think that when they make us slaves or break us to pieces for spare parts. Then you’ll see, see that I was right!”

Lennox sighed, “Whatever you say Verity. Hurry up and get onboard so we can leave. The sooner we are loaded, the sooner Donnelly gets helped.”

Verity pulled a face, but moved inside anyway. She hopped into the bench seat, squeezing between Chip and Carly. He halfway expected a fight to break out, but for once the kids behaved and strapped on the harnesses.

Lennox found his own seat, strapping himself in and keeping a tight hold on Annabelle who seemed to be trying to drift off into sleep again. She cooed at him sleepily, her little optics dim. 

Donnelly was strapped down to the floor, seemingly in recharge himself. Lennox thought that was for the best. Donnelly had suffered so much.

He still did not like looking at the wounds on Donnelly’s legs- they were horrific in the extreme! He was just glad that now he would finally be treated and healed. They had only been able to keep him from bleeding out with their limited tools and he knew they had had nothing to ease his pain.

Hopefully, Verity and the others would find things to keep them occupied and out of his hair. He had gone half mad having to deal with their petty fights and arguments. It was like being trapped on a family car trip from hell. ‘He is on my side!’, ‘he took my rock that I like to sit on’, or ‘she backwashed into the spring! I saw her!’

Good luck to whoever was supposed to help them settle in and acclimate.

OoOoOoOo

Steeljaw squeezed in tighter into his hiding place. It was embarrassingly easy to sneak into the energon mine. There had been a dozen times when he thought the eradicons might catch him, but the always passed him right over. The lift took them up into the Nemesis, and he slipped away just as easily finding the first ventilation shaft and helping himself to it.

He made his way through the levels looking for his target. Find Ratchet and get as much information that he could from the mech. He was the only one they were sure was being held.

The Decepticons had made no effort to hide their presence or their activities. There was only one guard who seemed to spend most of his time recharging while Eradicons worked on mining the raw energon. It was pathetic but Steeljaw was not going to complain, it made his job easier at least.

::Aw, what’s the matter kitty cat? Getting too old for this? Why don’t you come back and catch a few glitchmice and let a real mech handle the job.::

::Oh? And where exactly are you going to find a real mech, Ramhorn? Is Blaster sending Rewind? Or Eject?::

The angry rumble along the bond was music to his audios.

::Mechs! Stop acting like newsparks! Steeljaw, yah got a mission ta do! Ramhorn, stop bothering yer brother!::

::Yes, Blaster.::

::Hmph! Fine, whatever.::

Steeljaw padded through the narrow space that seemed to stretch endlessly. They had some rudimentary plans of the layout of the ship, but none of those included the ventilation system. He never liked to go into a place blind, but there was little help for it. Not if they wanted to keep the element of surprise.

He at least had a vague idea where the brig was, near the lowest of levels. He was nearly there. He moved silently, peeking out of a vent and could have jumped up and down. He found the place. His joy flitted away as he looked and saw no sign of the red and white mech.

::Found the place, Boss, but I’m not seeing Ratchet anywhere.::

He moved further down into the second cell black and froze, staring, ::Frag me. I think I found something just as good!::

::Don’t keep me hangin’, what do ya have?::

::Ultra Magnus, and I’m guessing the other one must be Wheeljack. Fits the description Smokescreen gave us. They don’t look like they are in bad shape? Should I approach them? Or move on and continue looking for our target?:: 

::Approach with caution. They might know where Ratchet is being kept at or if he is offline. Be careful, Steely.::

::Always, Boss! I’ll let you know what I learn.::

Steeljaw slunk through the shadows, being careful to avoid the security cameras. “Psst. Magnus! Magnus!”

The blue mech stiffened, and then looked up. His optics fixed on the vent and he stared. Steeljaw had never seen the commander look shocked, not like he did in that moment. “Steeljaw?” he hissed. 

“Hey, boss-bot, fancy meeting you here,” Steeljaw purred. “How is it hanging?” 

Ultra Magnus just stared, “I must be hallucinating.” 

“No, I see him too,” Wheeljack leaned against the bars, “What is a pretty kitty like you doing in a dive like this?”

Steeljaw chuckled, “I could ask you the same thing. Seen the medic? I’ve been sent to find his shiny white aft, but can’t seem to see him anywhere.” 

“He’s in the cellblock one floor up, the interrogation cells. Here, I’ll give you the floor plans,” Wheeljack offered. Almost immediately there was a ping against Steeljaw’s firewalls.

Steeljaw accepted the packet, and let it unfold whistling, “Sweet, and detailed. Thanks. Uh...why is he in a different cell block?”

“They make him help out with some of their repairs as well as...other duties. If he is not in the interrogation cells then he is in the aft repair bay. He is teaching a new medic.”

Steeljaw was confused. Ratchet was one of the finest teachers on Cybertron or beyond but why would he agree to teach a fragging con? He nodded and slinked away to the interrogation cells.

Empty.

Alright, moving on to the secondary medbay then.

He slide along the vents, keeping an optic out for Soundwave’s own creations. He heard voices speaking as he drew closer and could not believe his optics when he peeked out of the vent.

Ratchet was there all right. With a youngling!

He was a very animated thing. The mech’s doorwings fluttered, apparently happy with whatever Ratchet was telling him. Steeljaw watched their interaction, and checked about to make sure no one else was hanging about. He move around to the vent the peered out into the hallway. He recoiled as he saw Soundwave waiting on the other side of the door. He prayed that his signal damper was working enough to keep Soundwave from finding him. That was worse case scenario. The last thing he wanted was to be reformatted and end up in Soundwave’s collection.

He moved slowly, and went back to the medbay’s vent. He waited until the youngling was distracted before attempting to get Ratchet’s attention.

He stuck one paw slightly through the vent and waved at Ratchet. Ratchet looked up and gasped in shock.The youngling started to turn to see what Ratchet was looking at, when the door slid open and Soundwave strode in.

Quickly drawing his paw into the vent, Steeljaw hid instantly. To Steeljaw’s shocked horror, the youngling put his servo trustingly into Soundwave’s and led him away. At the same time, two Eradicons appeared and roughly dragged Ratchet out of the room.

Steeljaw hurried through the vents tracking the eradicons as they prodded Ratchet through the hallway. So many questions stirred through Steeljaw’s processor. Who was the youngling? And why was he so friendly with Soundwave of all mech’s. It made Steeljaw’s tank churn. Soundwave was a horribly sneaky mech, nearly the only time he ever tried to befriend a mech was if he wanted to reformat them. Megatron being the exception rather than the rule. 

They were taking Ratchet back to the cellblock Wheeljack had pointed him towards. He hoped the mechling had not seen him and give him up to Soundwave. He was feeling really ill with worry by the time he reached the brig. He made it there in time for him to watch the eradicons push Ratchet into the cell.

He waited until he heard the doors of the outer corridor shut and he was certain that the Eradicons were finally gone. Then he opened the vent and leaned out, “Ratchet? What is going on? Are you okay? Who was that youngling? Why is he with Soundwave? Doesn’t he realize that Soundwave only lures mechs close like that to convert them?”

Ratchet sighed and gave him a sad look. “What is going on is complicated. Have you seen Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus yet?”

“Yes, I found them first and they told me where to find you. What’s going on?”

“Are you here alone?” Ratchet asked, a note of hope in his voice.

“I have back up, big bot, don’t you worry about that. How about you clue me into what is going on?”

The medic huffed, “Fine, fine. The youngling is one of the humans we were allied with---Rafael Esquivel. He...frag. it’s been bad Steeljaw. As bad as Soundwave is he is in better servos than he was before.”

Steeljaw huffed, not believing that for a moment.

“What could be worse than being groomed into being forcibly reformatted into a symbiote against your will? I am proud to be a part of Blaster, he made each of us with a shard of his own spark. We are his creations. Soundwave steals mechs! He enslaves them! His only creation is that fragger Lazerbeak.”

Ratchet sighed, “It was worse. They stole them, all three of the kids. They- Steeljaw, they made them slaves. It was bad enough for Jack and Miko, they were close to adulthood- to being fully developed. Raf- Raf is and was a youngling. A mere youngling. Who was cruelly deflowered and then forced over and over by Knock Out. I want to kill that fragger!”

Steeljaw rebooted his audials thinking he had heard wrong, “Knock Out did what?”

“Forced him. Took his seals, starved him. I know Soundwave is a bad mech, but at least he doesn’t do that.” 

“Oh, frag. I’m sorry, Ratchet.” 

“Don’t apologize to me. It’s not me that...frag I would have taken his place in a klik,” Ratchet said, his tone mournful.

“Hopefully we will get you all out soon. Prowl is working on it mech, I promise.” 

Ratchet however shook his helm sadly, “It won’t be that easy. Megatron has personally taken one of the children, Jack, as his own slave. He hasn’t left Megatron’s quarters since he was taken away. The final child is the one who will be the most difficult of all!”

Steeljaw looked skeptical and slightly intimidated, “What is harder that breaking into Megatron’s chamber and stealing a mech from him?”

Ratchet gave him a flat look, “How about a femme, who has turned into a predacon- and recently laid a clutch of eggs?”

“You’re joking, right?” Steeljaw laughed until he noticed Ratchet was not joining in. His ears drooped, “Primus, you aren’t. I don’t know how we would get her out if that is the case. From what I’ve read they are very...aggressive when defending their nests.”

“You could say that,” Ratchet agreed. “I’m not even sure I could convince Raf to leave. He’s attached.” 

“Prowl is not going to like this at all.” 

“No, I don’t imagine he will.”

“I’m not gonna lie, we may not be able to get them outta here.” 

Ratchet sighed, “I know. And if they stay, then I will stay with them. I won’t lose them again. They have already lost their families, their homes, their world and even their memories- their innocence. I won’t abandon them.”

Steeljaw let his jaw drop in shock, “Ratchet, no! We can’t-!”

“You can and you will. Take Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus. Try and grab Jack and Raf. I will stay and help the ones you can’t get. I can always be rescued later or send the hatchlings from Miko’s eggs to you. Make it look like Knock Out was careless.”

“Ratchet, you can’t. Prime needs you.” 

Ratchet gave him a sharp look, “They’ve chosen a new Prime? Already?”

“What? No, I mean Optimus. We found him on the surface along with Arcee, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, and...they also found Smokescreen.” 

Ratchet shook his helm, “I---I don’t understand.”

“Smokescreen thought they were dead, but I guess whatever they used to cyberform this placed restored them. It’s crazy.” 

“That, that shouldn’t be possible! I am starting to wonder about how many things that should not be possible keep happening on this world. Cyberforming should not transform humans into cybertronians. It should not revive fallen Autobots at all. It could have brought human technology to life, or razed the Earth to the ground but not this.”

Steeljaw had to agree. This was a strange and bizarre place. Ratchet however seemed to have thought of something. “Is Smokescreen alright? He is a good mech, if still a bit too brash.”

“Yes, he’s fine. A bit traumatised, but Prowl was glad to have his brother back.” 

Ratchet stared, “What?” 

“You didn’t know? Yeah, Prowl is Smokescreen’s elder brother,” Steeljaw said, “Well as nice as this chat has been do ya have anything for me?” 

“Yeah, jack in,” Ratchet said opening his medical port. “I have compiled a bit of information. Where things are. The guard rotations. They are pretty on schedule.”

Steeljaw shifted from ped to ped for a moment before sliding the cover back. He winced as the plug slid into place and packets of data started to move through the connection. It was far more than he could have taken from a single ping. Ratchet was thorough if anything.

“Great, I will get this back to Prowl. Just...don’t make any decision, my mech. Please.” Steeljaw slipped back into the vent. “I’ll catch you on the flip-side.”

“I hope so.”

OoOoOoOo

Verity watched the mechs suspiciously as her group was herded into the ship’s medbay. She didn’t trust any of them. She just knew they were all out to get her family. It didn’t matter that they seemed nice, and pretended they wanted to help.

“Can you please step this way, there is a free medberth over here?”

“Why?” She narrowed her optics and glared down the mech. Or would have if he wasn’t a head taller than her.

“Because I have been given the task of checking on your wellbeing, could you please come with me?” 

“No thank you.” There was no way in hell she was letting the robot scan anything of here...whatever that meant.

“If you are not scanned you cannot be placed in housing. We cannot afford a virus passing around the ship.”

“Like I care.” 

The red mech just stared at her. “You have to be scanned. It’s procedure.” 

“Says who?” 

“Standard medical procedure states that all contact with new species must be closely monitored. One member of your group has already tested positive with a mutated strain of virus. If you refuse, I will be forced to have you put in a protective quarantine.”

Verity scowled, “Right- so either I let you use me as a guinea pig or you lock me up? I pick lock me up. I am not going to let you experiment on me. I know that is the only reason you picked us up- experiments and slave labor. Well, I am not doing either!”

The red mech stared at her, “I do not know what you are speaking of, nor what a guinea pig is. However, you are not going to be a test subject or a slave. It is not the Autobot way.”

“I don’t believe you. Why else would you bring us here? Help is never free. I know how it is. I lived on the street. I’m not gonna let you take advantage of us.” She crossed her arms over her chest. 

The red mech shook his helm, “We do not leave civilians in the way of harm. It is not how---”

“Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that,” Verity said, poking the mech in the chest, her finger pinging of metaliglass with a satisfying clang.

“I am saying that because it is the truth, youngling.”

“I’m not a kid. That is what you think, isn’t it? That I’m some easily manipulated child?” 

“I said no such thing,” the red mech replied, coolly.

“You didn’t have to,” she taunted. 

The red mech gave her a blank look for a long moment. “You are being illogical. I will leave an annotation that you may have suffered side effects from a virus or damage to your processor. First Aid will attend to you as soon as he is finished with the newspark. Please wait here.”

She scowled at robot, “Are you saying that I am crazy? You are, aren’t you!? You are just going to have the other medic do it because ‘I’m crazy’, well maybe you are just stupid.”

The red mech paused, “I am many things, but stupid is not among them. You need to calm yourself, obviously you are addled from your experience.”

“Addled, what the hell kind of thing is that to say about a person,” she yelled hopping off the medical berth and advancing towards him. “I’ll show you addled.” 

“Get back on that medical berth, this is---”

She kicked him in the shin before he could get out the rest, “I’ll addle you, you---you Jerk.” 

“This is unacceptable,” he said gaping at her like a fish out of water. Verity felt triumphant for a single moment before he tackled her.

She gasped as she was flattened and then her whole body went limp. She couldn’t move! The robot had broken her spine or something! She was paralyzed! She froze in terror for a minute, and then began to scream.

“Perceptor, what the slag is going on over there? What are you doing to that poor femme!?”

“She has repeatedly refused to allow the basic scan to ensure that she is virus free, began to act irrationally and then attacked me. I restrained her, so she can be treated and have whatever processor damage repaired when you have a free moment, First Aid.”

First Aid stared, “Let her up, Perceptor. She doesn’t have processor damage.” 

Perceptor gave him an uncharacteristically stubborn look, “I am sure you are wrong. She tried to inflict damage on my person. She is clearly glitching.”

“He said I was addled,” Verity hissed beneath him, doing her best to try to wiggle away. She couldn’t move much with the cuffs on, and finally gave up, sagging to the floor.

“Perceptor,” First Aid admonished, “What were you thinking?”  
“She was acting irrational.” 

“She was clearly upset. Get those cuffs off of her now.” 

“I will not.”

First Aid’s engine rumbled with warning. He was not one to anger quickly, but he was slowly moving in that direction. “This is my medbay, and you will.”

Perceptor grumbled as he released the cuff, and stepped back before Verity could hit at him...which she tried to do the moment she could move. Perceptor stepped out of reach and gave First Aid a look that said ‘I told you so.’

“Verity, you are Verity, correct?” First Aid said neatly stepping between them. “Lennox is expecting you, but we must scan you first. It is only to check for virus’. Would you like me to show you how it is done? I’m sure Perceptor will not mind being made an example of.” 

Perceptor gave him an affronted look, “First Aid, I very much do MIND being poked and prodded for no reason.”

“Well, you are going to have to get over it, Medic’s orders. That is...unless you want me to get Prowl and make it an order.” 

Perceptor glowered, “Fine.”

Perceptor walked to a med-berth and sat down on it grumpily. First Aid came over and smiled, “Now Verity, if you will come a little closer, you will see there is nothing to be concerned over.”

Verity did not trust any of these robots at all. She edged along the med-berth, keeping her eyes on the two robots. The stupid red one was glaring at her, but it was his fault. He was an asshole!

“Now, Verity. All I am going to do is open a small panel, which on Perceptor here is on his arm. I open the panel and plug the cable from the pad in, and activate a virus scan. It is that simple.”

Verity edged closer, “Why didn’t he want you to do it then?” She asked doubt in her voice. It did not look comfortable in the least. Nor was the red robots look convincing. He continued to glare at her. It made her want to reach out and slap him across the face. What a jerk! 

Instead she reached out, smirking. She grabbed ahold of the cylinder mounted on his shoulder instead, squeezing. She expected him to yelp in pain. 

To her shock, he moaned at the touch instead. She squeezed again, but this time he blushed and swatted her away. He jerked the cable from his arm and stormed out. Verity looked after him in shock before turning to look at the other robot, who to her surprise was looking at her in shock.

“What?”

The mech looked away, “Please sit on the berth so I can scan you.”

She sat where the red mech had, surprised by how they had reacted. The robot opened the panel that was on her arm. She tensed when he plugged in, but it didn’t hurt. She had barely begun to relax when he removed the plug and closed her panel. “You are clean. Please follow the others. And..try to refrain from molesting mechs without their permission.”

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know.”

“I know,” First Aid said, “You should still apologize to him. I can’t imagine you would want some mech to do that to you. And Perceptor is very proper. He’s a good bot, and only someone bonded should touch them like that.”

She stared at him blankly, “What do you mean a ‘good bot’. You make it sound like he’s saving himself to marriage or something. That doesn’t make any sense at all. You are robots.” 

First Aid shook his helm, “No...we are cybernetic lifeforms. Robots are mindless drones. We are not that. Perceptor is from Nova Cronum, from one of the...oh...high caste families. It is a wonder they ever let him leave and study in Crystal City. You would not understand I suppose but they would have seen his love of science as just a...a pastime. A hobby.” 

Verity blinked at him, “What are you talking about?”

First Aid frowned, “I am trying to explain. Our culture is clearly not like your own.” 

“Well, duh. You are giant alien robots. What the hell are you talking about?”

First Aid frowned at her use of the term ‘robot’ again but sighed and continued, “He is from a very highly ranked family. The fact that he defied them to become a scientist is remarkable to say the least. Most mechs in his situation would have been content to keep science as a hobby.”

Verity was about to ask about what he meant, when he looked to the side where a light was flashing over one of the doors along the side of the room. “Excuse me. I have to attend to a patient.” 

She frowned, and was still frowning sitting on the medberth when Lennox came to get her. “Ver, come on. They are taking us to our room assignments.” He looked at her noting the frown, “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“Hell I don’t even know. I upset someone. What else is new?” She huffed, hopping off the berth and scowled at Lennox. “Whatever. How was I supposed to know he was an overly-sensitive jerk. He started it. And he handcuffed me.” 

“He did what? Verity!!! What did you do this time?” 

“I just touched him, and he freaked out and stomped away, then First Aid went on about how he was some sort of high-born something or other and made it sound like I groped him. I didn’t though. I’m not gonna apologize. I don’t even care. He was a jerk and he sat on me.”

Lennox shook his head, “You are just bound and determined to make this as difficult as you can aren’t you? Can’t you try to get along with these guys?”

Verity scowled, “Why bother? They are just going to get bored with us and kick us out or make us into slaves, or use us for parts! Don’t even bother try to get me to play nice with these fucking robots. I am not falling for their Goody Two-shoes routine.” 

Lennox sighed, “I wish you would stop being such a hard ass all the time. You make everything so much harder on yourself that it needs to be.”

“I do not,” she grumbled. “I’m just trying to protect myself.”

“No. You are making it harder on all of us, Ver. God knows we love you, but you make it really hard sometimes.” 

“I don’t mean to,” she mumbled, shrugging. “I really didn’t mean to upset him. I was just tired of his attitude. He said I was addled. I’m not though. I know I’m not.”

Lennox put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close, “You aren’t. You know we care about you. You just need to chill out.They haven’t done anything to hurt us, Ver. They have done nothing to hurt us.” 

“That doesn’t mean that they won’t though! They could just be softening us up! Just you wait and see! I don’t trust them and neither should you!”

Lennox sighed again, “C’mon kid. They are waiting on us to take us to our quarters and give us a short tour of the ship.”

Verity shook her helm, why did no one but her see the danger here? “Fine. Whatever! When we all die as lab rats, I told you so!”

This was not going to end well! She let Lennox pull her through the door, resigned to her fate. She didn’t miss Lennox rolling his optics of the way he muttered, ‘drama queen’ under his breath. 

She huffed and let herself be pulled to where the rest of their group was milling about, she didn’t recognize the bots in front. Neither were ones they had encountered yet. The taller one was blue, and lithe looking. The other smaller, his grey armour oddly iridescent like an opal, and the little wings on his back fluttered nervously. he was...cute in a disarming sort of way.

“I am Mirage, and this is Prism,” the blue robot said in a clear voice, “We will be giving you the tour through the ship.” 

The smaller robot was partly hiding behind the larger robot like a shy kid or something. It was oddly cute. The larger robot looked down at the smaller one, “Say hello, Prism. It is important to be polite, remember?”

The little robot tried to hide behind the other but nodded and slowly moved forward and gave a little bow, “Hello, my name is Prism. I am very pleased to meet you.”

It took all Verity had not to coo at how adorable the small robot was. Several of the others however did it for her. “What a polite little one. Is...he yours?”

The larger robot smiled and nodded, “Yes, Prism is mine. I have raised him since he was very little. He is my shining star.”

The little robot let a dismayed little cheep, “Guardian!” 

“You are,” the taller robot chuckled, it was oddly musical sounding and only elicited more trills of dismay from the smaller robot.

“I am not a sparkling,” Prism said, “And in front of these mechs!”

“No you are not, we should get on with the tour. Please follow me. I will show you the mess hall first. It contains the dispensary. Some of the rooms have them as well. Mostly the rooms that have youngling assigned to them”

They walked down the long hallway, all of their group gawking around her. Verity was hard-pressed not to do the same, but she did not want to give Lennox the satisfaction. 

Lennox however saved her from having to speak to the robot by asking the question that she had been wondering,”Why would rooms with kids need to have dispensers? I would think that you would worry they would waste food.”

Mirage smiled and led them down a long hall. “Younglings need more fuel while they are undergoing their upgrades. There is a limit on how much each person gets and the dispensers are all logged into a central system so no one receives more than their share. We have to enforce rationing aboard ship. The converters can only produce so much each sol after all.”

Verity frowned, they could make their own fuel? Well there went one idea of why they wanted Earth.

Mirage led them to a big, open room with rows upon rows of tables. “This is the mess hall. The energon dispensers are in the corner. They have a couple of settings, which Prism will show you.”

The little mech squirmed as all optics focused on him, a little whine escaping his vocalizer. “The settings are colour coded so you will still be able to use it before you get the upgrades for language. Green is for mid-grade...which is what you will want. Blue is sparkling-grade energon.” 

The little mech used the dispenser to fill a cube demonstrating how to use the machine. It was surprisingly straightforward.

Once he was done, the small robot turned back to the larger one and looked at him for approval. The larger robot nodded and smiled making the smaller one beam happily. Verity shook her head, the little one was so cute.

She looked around and saw a pair of robots, one bright red and the other golden yellow, and they were watching the little robot intently. What was going on? The little robot saw the other two and blushed before going and hiding behind the larger one.

The two other robots frowned but kept watching him.

Prism seemed to do what Verity could only describe as preening, his little doorwings fluttering. He peeked out from behind of Mirage, winglets fluttering faster. Mirage only looked more annoyed. “We should move on. There are recreation rooms on most decks. There are two large ones. One on this deck and one near the officer’s quarters. You will be house close to the one on this deck. He glare grew sharp and settled on the other robots. “Let us go.”

They filed in after him, but Verity couldn't help but glance behind and watch as the two big bots followed them. Interesting.

In fact, she noticed that the two of them followed them as they were shown to the large recreation rooms and then the one near their rooms. Mirage had begun to show them to their rooms and Verity frowned when she realized she would have to share with Carly. The girl never shut up!

The two robots shadowed them even then, peering around a corner at them. What was with them? She had seen the little robot with Mirage, Prism she thought it had said its name was, preen when it caught sight of the other two robots so she was beginning to wonder if they were stalking him.

She did not understand these robots at all. They did the oddest things. First Aid’s words came back to haunt her. This culture was not her own. Verity felt out of her depth. 

They made their way past the habitation suits, but Verity was only halfway paying attention at that point. She watched the two mech’s covertly. It was very strange, all of it.

She watched as each of the members of her group were paired up and assigned quarters. When it was time for Carly and her to be shown to their room, she was pleasantly surprised. She had expected that it would a single room, maybe set up like a dorm room. Instead, she found herself looking at a living room that had three doors leading off of it. She looked around the living room and opened one of the doors. It contained a flat metal slab attached to the wall, a desk and a chair.

It was nicer than she had expected that was for sure. Carly however was already gushing about how nice the place was.The second door apparently had a room identical to the first, which left just the last door. She opened it and was surprised to see what looked like a bathroom. Well....at least a shower and dryer. She hummed at that. It would be nice to be clean. All of their plating was dull and dusty. It was not something she had noticed until that had came onto the ship, and especially when Mirage and Prism had walked in. They both gleamed. It left Verity feeling grubbier than usual

The bed...did not look appealing. Not like the little nest they had made at home. She sighed, already missing their makeshift home. Carly was not though. She was still gushing when Verity made it back into the common room. She glared and wondered if they would both survive this. Or, rather, if Carly would. 

“This is so awesome,” Carly exclaimed, and flung her arms around Verity. “Don’t you think so?” 

Verity glared at the other woman and growled as she shoved the arm off of her. “It’s alright, I guess. The beds look like shit though. Would it kill them to give us a mattress or a pillow? Hell, a blanket even?”

Carly gave her a curious look, “We could ask? They may have taken them out of these rooms were not being used. I am sure if they have any, that they would give us some!”

Carly was far too trusting. It was obvious that she had come from a well to do family if she expected to be simply given whatever she wanted and even their time at the gym had done nothing to correct that.

“I don’t know why you are so mistrustful. What have they done to deserve that?” Carly asked, huffing. “You are always such a downer, Ver.”

“You are too trusting.” 

“You aren’t trusting enough. They are nice. They will help us.”

“You are so stupid,” Verity snapped, stomping away towards the door. She slipped through and nearly plowed into the red robot from earlier.

“Oh great! It’s you! What do you want?”

The robot gave her a flat look, “You would do better if you actually looked where you are going. It is basic logic. It would serve you well to remember it.”

How dare this robot treat her like she was an idiot!

“Why don’t you take your own advice, and try not walking directly in front of doors.”

“I am in the middle of the hallway. You are the one who careened into me like you were fleeing an insecticon hive.”

Verity’s armor puffed up and her winglets hiked up high, flaring into a “V”. “What? What did you just call me?” 

The red bot bristled just as visibly, then seemed to take a deep ventilation. “This is illogical. There is no reason for this hostility.” 

“Are you calling me illogical? Because I’m pretty fed up with the name calling, buddy.” 

“My name is Perceptor, not buddy.” 

“Okay, whatever, Percy.” 

He glared, and shifted from ped to ped. “The polite thing would be to give me your own name.” 

She scowled at the mech, “Like you care. Just get out of my way. You are blocking my-”

“Oh hi! You were one of the mechs in the clinic who was doing the exams right? Hi there! I’m Carly and you’ve already met Verity! She is a bit prickly.”

The red mech looked at Carly and gave a small nod in her direction. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Carly. I shall allow you to continue on your way, good sol.”  
“Oh, you should go with us!” Carly said snagging Perceptor’s arm, and looping it in her own. “They showed us around but I dunno. There were no covers in our rooms. Do you know where we can get some? I’m not sure I want to sleep on just a slab, Doesn’t look very comfortable, and Ver has those winglet things. Yeah. What do you think.” 

Perceptor blinked, “I...you mean meshes. There should be padding to go over the berth slabs. I---” his optics darted over to Verity, “I could take you down to the stockroom. It’s down on the bottom floors.

“That would be so sweet of you, I’m sure Verity would appreciate it too,” Carly said, wiggling out, and pushing Verity in her place.

Perceptor stared, the femme babbled worse than little Bluestreak. “I---sure.”

“Why, don’t we ask if the others need them too!” Carly seemed pleased to have thought of it.

Perceptor seized the offered chance at once, “I will ask them to bring all of you things then, once I get to my laboratory. They can bring meshes and maybe a few other things. I will ask them to speak to Mirage for what you require. Good sol to you both.”

He rushed off, leaving Carly confused and Verity amused.

Verity watched him hurry off, and she couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her lips. She had never encountered quite such an awkward soul since school. Maybe that really was his problem. It made her sigh inside. The more she saw of the robots the more she realized how much they were like humans. It was unnerving.

“Thank you!” Carly called, waving. “You should go after him,” she hissed.

“Why would I do that? What the hell, Carly? Why are you so weird?” 

“I am not. But he is kinda cute.” 

“You....are...completely bizarre. I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Verity said rolling her optics. 

Carly gave her a dirty look, “I am not bizarre, miss. I have to look at every gift horse in the mouth! I am trying to make the best of the situation so stop raining on my parade all time. We all know how bad this could go, but we had no choice so stop trying to ruin this before it starts!”

“Right, and that is why I have to be the voice of reason. But no one wants to think of what could go wrong. Someone has to but no one does it. So I have to, and I get no thanks for it either!”

“You are just making yourself and everyone around you miserable. Stop it. Just STOP it.”

Verity shook. How dare she say such things. “They are just going to kill us.”

“You don’t know that. Hell. Did you not notice how awkward and upset you made him? What is wrong with you?” 

Verity huffed. “There is nothing wrong with me. I’m just not stupid like you are. I’m not going to just throw myself at these...these robots.” 

“Maybe you should. It couldn’t possibly make you any unhappier than you already are,” Carly snapped.

“What is that supposed to mean, little miss sunshine? Not everyone can keep their head in the sand and hope all the bad stuff goes away! You act like is one of your idiotic tea parties or cotillions or what the fuck you ever called them! This is real life! Get over it and get out of my face!”

Carly reared back like she had been hit, “Is that what you think of me? Of course you do, that is why you all avoid me, isn’t it?! How dare they! They dare mock me when I have given up so much for the good of the group.”

“Like you had any choice in the matter. Our world is destroyed, so stop acting like a self-sacrificing victim.”

Verity didn’t see Carly’s hand strike out, or even realize what had happened until she was picking herself off the floor. Her hand went to her cheek and found a dent there. One that ooze that pink stuff. She stared up at Carly in shock. She was the last person Verity had ever expected violence from. “Just shut up, Verity. Just fucking shut up. You don't even freaking know what you are talking about.” 

Verity looked up at Carly, still surprised. She had never seen Carly resort to violence. “Carly!”

“No. You shut up and listen to me. I won’t have it. I won’t have you ruining this for us. That boy was trying to be nice and apologize to you, and what do you do? Be a little snarky bitch!”

“He’s a robot.”

“Did you not listen to anything Lennox told us? They aren’t robots. It’s an INSULT to them. They are like us. I’d advise you to go find his bloody lab and apologize to him because I’m not letting you back into our room until you do.” 

“You can’t do that!!!”

“Watch me.”

Verity watched as Carly strode down the hallway, leaving her gaping in shock.

When the fuck had Carly grown a backbone?

OoOoOoOo

Perceptor calmly walked into his lab. He was confused- a state that was rare and disturbing to him. He knew the cause naturally, but was unsure of the reason behind it. It had all began when he had met that….that….illogical and malfunctioning femme. He was still convinced that she had processor damage.

However, that would not explain why his spark seemed to spin faster and pulse when she was nearby. Maybe there was something wrong with him. Something wrong with his spark. The thought was alarming and almost made him do an about face back to the medbay. He was losing it. Clearly. He stopped in the hallway, muttering to himself. This just wouldn’t do.

There had to be an explanation.

Maybe she had infected him with something. Maybe she did have some kind of virus they had not discovered yet. 

How very alarming.

He would have to begin a series of tests. He began to draw up potential hypothesis and the tests and experiments that would either confirm or deny them. If this was indeed a new kind of virus, who knew what systems it was affecting?

He thought about it and decided to comm First Aid, if there was a new virus the the medic should be kept appraised of the situation and his progress in determining what was going on.

“First Aid, I would appreciate a moment when you are available. It is an urgent manner.”

“Urgent? Come over to the medbay then. Is something the matter?”

“I believe I may be infected with some new type of virus. I am having the most unsettling symptoms. I shall meet you in the medbay shortly!”

Perceptor wasted no time hurrying across the ship to meet First Aid. He was so worked up by the time he arrived he thought he might be glitching.

First Aid was waiting giving him a concerned look with the scanner ready and waiting. ‘“What are the symptoms that have you worried you have a virus?”

Perceptor went to the med-berth next to the medic and sat down at once. “I am feeling unusual sensations in my spark: erratic pulses and surges as well as having trouble concentrating.”

First Aid stared at him, “...Is that it?”

“I think that femme infected me with something,” he mumbled. “My processor feels scrambled anytime I try to talk to her.” 

“Perceptor. I don’t think that is a virus. None of the symptoms you are describing ar---”

“It has to be. There is something wrong with me. Clearly. I am agitated.” 

“Clearly, but I do not think it is from a virus,” First Aid said, and frowned at the mech before him.

“What other option do you see as a possibility? A programming glitch? Or a wyrm?”

First Aid sighed, why were the most intelligent mechs unable to see right in front of their faces? “None of those.”

“There must be a reason for my symptoms, First Aid. They did not simply appear from nothing.”

First Aid sighed again, Perceptor was not going to like this at all. “Perceptor, in my honest opinion in sounds like you are feeling the signs of a spark match.”

Perceptor blinked at him, “Pardon me?” The puzzled look on his faceplates made First Aid shake his helm.

“You...Perceptor...have you never interfaced with anyone?” 

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.” 

“Perceptor. I’m your medic.” 

“I don’t see what that has to-to do with this.” his cheekplates heated up to nearly the colour of his plating. “Why are we talking about this?” 

“We are talking about this because the so called ‘symptoms’ you are feeling are in fact the same signals for desire, attraction and arousal. You said it only happened around ‘her’. I assume that you are referring to Verity, correct?”

Perceptor had begun to blush and his expression had turned to one of horror. “That-that is impossible! I would never-! She-! She is-!”

“She is what your frame and spark apparently want. So, this leads to what are you going to do about it. And your answer had better not be to hack yourself and remove the coding for arousal. I will be checking your programming each decacycle until I am sure you won’t do something like that.”

Perceptor quivered, “First Aid!” It was as if the mech had read his processor. He shrank away, this was not normal. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. 

“Oh, stop it. It is perfectly natural. Past time, really.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” he finally said in a painfully small voice. “And---and---she hates me. Are you sure? I just coul---” 

“Absolutely not. You will not hack yourself. I will keep you here if I have to.” 

“First Aid, I am just trying to be practical. I am far too busy for… /that//. I have projects that I have to finish as well as very important research to complete. It will be a very simple code change. No one would even notice if they were not looking for it.”

“No, Perceptor. No coding changes. You will just have to deal with it like a normal mech. Try talking to her, or finding out what she likes. She was just rescued from the ruins of her home planet, I am sure if you give her a present that she won’t already have one.”

Perceptor wrung his hands, “But my experiments.” 

“They will keep, Perceptor. It will be fine, I promise.” he patted the red mech’s back. “Talk to her.”

“Fine, i-if you think that is what is best.” 

“I do, and I will expect you back here everyday for a scan, I am serious Perceptor. If I have to I will put you on medical rest.” 

Perceptor’s optics widened in alarm. “I will talk to her then, I’m just not sure what to say.” He squirmed under First Aid’s regard. “You said I should get her a present? W-what do femmes even like?”

“You could make her energon treats, you have the labspace to do that.” 

“Energon treats? But they are worthless? They have no nutritional value at all. Why would I make such a thing?”

First Aid gave Perceptor a resigned look, “You have made them before in the past, why do you baulk at doing it again?”

“I made those treats for the med-bay, as you well know! You are the one who asked for them to give to the sparklings and younglings so they would behave during their exams and upgrades.”

“So why not make some for her? It might make her better behaved towards you. Did you consider that?”

Perceptor stopped ranting and looked thoughtful, “I---there is some merit in that idea. She is rather...rambunctious.”

“And don’t tell her she is addled again.”

“She might be.”

“It doesn’t matter, Perceptor. Telling her that is just going to make her mad all over again,” First Aid said in exasperation. “Just be nice to her.” 

“I really do think---”

“And therein lies the problem.”

Perceptor stared, “First Aid!” 

First Aid laughed, “It is true! You think too much at times, and overthink simple issues to offlining! This is one of those simple issues! You like a femme! So court her!”

Perceptor looked at the ground and fidgeted with his servos, “It is not that easy. I-I have never courted anyone before. What am I supposed to do? All the conventions that I knew of in my youngling vorns are gone now.”

“That is true, but surely you can find ways of doing something in the same sense. You can’t take her to the great crystal garden but you could take her to the ship’s small garden. We have no fine restaurants, but several mechs can cook and might trade a fine meal with you.”

“Oh,” Perceptor said sounding very small and young.

“I am sure you will come up with something Perceptor, and you know I will be here to help if you need it.”

“Oh, well… thank you then. I suppose I have much to think on.” He winced. Maybe he did think too much. “I will follow your advice. Maybe she will enjoy the treats, I do not know about the garden though. She seems to be a restless soul.” He would venture to guess that she might even like weapons, but the thought of arming her after her violent outburst was enough to make Perceptor want to hide. She might very well turn such a thing on him.

His optics widened at that thought. Yes, treats seemed the safest course of action.

They at least were not likely to involve him suffering bodily harm.

He still was not sure how to treat her- he still harbored suspicions that she had processor damage to cause her violent behavior. She was unlike the femmes he had know as a sparkling and youngling. Even the femmes he knew amongst the Autobots were not as violent- barring a few notable femmes.

He knew so little about her, as well. What had her species been like? How had their society integrated? What had they eaten? What was taboo for them?

What was her name?

“Stop worrying so much, Perceptor, Verity is not that bad. Nor is the rest of her kind. From what I have seen at least. Perhaps you should talk to the Prime’s coterie. They were with the humans before they were turned. They might have some insight.”

“Oh, that---that could prove to be helpful.”

First Aid nodded, “That is the spirit. Would you like for me to introduce you to Smokescreen?”

“I really don’t want to be a bother, or distress him more.”

“Oh, Perceptor,” First Aid smiled. “At this point Smokescreen would welcome a distraction. Prowl is being overly protective of him.”

“Oh dear. I take it Prowl was not reassured by Smokescreen’s declaration that Streetwise had saved him and the humans had no meant to hurt him?”

“Not at all.”

OoOoOoOo

Smokescreen pouted, his brother was so annoying and aggravating sometimes! He had done nothing wrong, and neither had Streetwise. So why was Prowl punishing them both like this? It wasn’t fair! “Prowl! Streetwise is not to blame! He did everything anyone could in that situation! Why don’t you believe me?”

“Rest Smokescreen. I will deal with Streetwise. I apparently made an error in judgement about you. I am sure I can find another appropriate mech to bond him to.”

Smokescreen bristled, wings flaring, “You will not, he’s mine. You can’t do this. I won’t let you do this.”

Prowl looked at him blandly, “I did not do right by you before, but I will now. You need to stop working yourself up about this. You barely know him, youngling. We will find someone more appropriate for you.”

“Why won’t you listen to me, I don’t want someone else. You can’t do this. You can’t.” It was tempting to stomp his peds like a young spark, he felt that mad. “I hate you.”

“You do not. Don’t say that, Smokescreen,” Prowl scolded him like a newspark. “You never know when one of us may die. Do you want that on your spark forever?”

“Yes! Because you are being an aft about this! I love Streetwise! Or at least, I really like him! I want to keep courting him, so I can find out if I love him or not. Why can you not understand?”

“Smokescreen! Calm down! He had proven that he is unsuitable for you and that is final!”

“It is not! Why should I let you ruin my relationship with Streetwise? Would you have allowed someone to tell you that you and Jazz were unsuitable for each other?”

Prowl’s engine growled angrily at the very notion. “We are not discussing Jazz and I, but you and Streetwise.”

“Maybe we should be. You bonded out of caste. You bonded for love, and yet you want to---to push me into a bonding I do not want? It’s unfair.”

“Smokescreen ple---”

“No. You can’t tell me what to do. Not in this. I’m an adult. I can make my own choices.” 

“If out creators were online---” 

“They aren’t. Praxus is gone, Prowl. It’s not coming back.” 

“I know that, Smokescreen. I know it better than you do! I can remember what it was like before it was destroyed. I know all too well what we lost. You and I are some of the last Praxians. We need to keep our culture and heritage alive. It is what our parents would have wanted for you.”

“Frag that! Frag our culture! Frag our heritage! Frag Praxus! If they would have forced me to be unhappy, then frag our creators to-!”

Prowl slapped Smokescreen hard across his faceplates. Both looked stunned as soon as it happened. Prowl looked at his still raised servo as though it belonged to a stranger. Smokescreen raised a trembling servo to his dented cheek and looked at Prowl with a blank look. Prowl lowered his servo and reached out to Smokescreen, “Smokey, I am so-”

“Get out Prowl.”

“Smokescreen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please don't be like this. Please see reason.”

Smokescreen trembled, “Get out. Get away from me.” 

“No.” Prowl’s optics narrowed, “I will not. You will listen to me. I have your best interest in spark. We will find you---”

“No. You will not. I won’t do it. You can’t make me,” his armour puffed up, “Don’t even worry about me. As far as I am concerned you don’t even have a brother. Isn’t that what you wanted? Why you left me? You never wanted me anyway. Well I am tired of being a burden to you, and I am not g-going to let you make me miserable just because you want to get rid of me.” 

Prowl’s optic widened in alarm, “Do not say that. I have always wanted you.”

“Oh, of course you did. That is why you sent me to the sparkling creche. Then the youth centers. Then when they were destroyed, you made watching me a part of the duty roster. Finally you dump me with Alpha Trion. Seems like you wanted me alright. That was why you never had time for me. Never took care of me. Never listened to me and what I wanted. You are dead to me, Prowl. I have no brother. Go back to your new family.The one you really did want.”

Prowl looked stunned, “Smokescreen, no! Wait! I-”

Smokescreen hit the button beside his berth, and First Aid came in shortly after. “Is everything okay in here? Smokescreen! What happened to your face?!”

“I had an accident. I would like to recharge, can you have him leave.”

First Aid looked between the two brother’s finally resting on Prowl. “Sir? What did you do?” 

“I’m not leaving,” Prowl said, “You will not do this Smokescreen. I didn’t---I’m not going to lose you now.” His wings trembled.

“Prowl, he needs rest and I need to clean up his wound. His self repair is strained enoug--”

“No. I’m not leaving,” Prowl snapped. 

Smokescreen only glared, his mouth sitting in a hard line. “If you are not here, /Sir//, in an official capacity then I request that you leave. I do not want non-family members here when I recharge.”

Prowl looked stricken at the word ‘sir’. “Smokey, please! Don’t!”

Smokescreen turned his helm away from him and sighed, “Aid? Make him leave, please. I am too tired to deal with him.”

“Prowl, sir. I will have to ask you to leave. Smokescreen has requested that you leave.”

Prowl’s doorwings quivered, “No, I will not leave. You will not ignore me. You are all I have left of our family. I won’t lose you too.” He vented loudly, “If-if it means so much to you I will give Streetwise my blessing. Please don’t cut me off like this. I love you. Please, Smokescreen. Don’t do this.” 

“Why not? I don’t need your blessing, you are not family. You never wanted me. Now you got your wish. Be happy. Go back to your bonded and your sparkling. They are the ones you love. I can survive fine and am used to being on my own. You taught me that at least.”

Prowl looked broken at Smokescreen’s words, “Please, Smokescreen. Don’t. Let me in.”

Smokescreen rolled over and glared at Prowl. “You were never there for me. Not once. Now you don’t have to worry about. I renounce you as my brother. I renounce my ties to your clan. I renounce my ties to Praxus. So mote it be! There! Aid, you are my witness! There is nothing between us. Go away Prowl. You got what you wanted.” 

“I never wanted this,” Prowl whispered, his vocalizer spitting static. “Despite what you seem to think, I do love you. You are my brother whatever you say. It will not change.”

First Aid watched, his visor bright, “Smokescreen, I think you are overwrought. Don’t say something you will regret later. Please.”

Smokescreen huffed, rolling over so his back was to bother mechs. “Whatever. Just leave me alone.”

First Aid looked to Prowl, his alarm growing visibly. “Do you want me to get Streetwise?” 

“No. He is the reason my brother is like this in the first place. I want nothing to do with him. Let Smokescreen rest. Your brother may visit for a short time afterwards. I will speak with him later though. I am still not impressed with him or his handling of what occurred with Smokescreen on the planet. I will however respect Smokescreen’s decision for now. If your brother gives me a reason, he will never see my brother again.”

Smokescreen huffed loudly from the berth, but did not turn around to address prowl, or First Aid.

“He tried his best, sir.” First Aid began, but was cut off by the glare on Prowl’s faceplates.

“We won’t discuss it anymore. Thank you for your care of my brother. Please comm me when he is strong enough to talk to me again. i think you are right. He does need rest and time to think of his actions. Clearly he is distraught and not in his right processor.”

Smokescreen rolled over and sat up his faceplates scowling as he glared at Prowl. His doorwings began to flare only to jerk and then flop down onto Smokescreen’s back with a yelp of pain. First Aid rushed over and put a servo on Smokescreen’s back. “Hold still, don’t move. Let me turn off the sensory input from your wings. You foolish mech. Now you have undone all my hard work.”

Smokescreen glared at Prowl, “I-I am not distraught and am in my proper processor. Frag you Prowl. Get out of my room and out of my life!” 

Prowl stomped over, grabbing Smokescreen’s chin and forcing him to look up at him. “I will not. You can throw this little fit all you want, but it will not change the facts. I am your brother, and I will not let you talk to me like this. I am the leader of our clan. My word is law. I will allow you to carry on this thing with Streetwise, but it is on my sufferance.”

Smokescreen tried to pull away, yelping when Prowl’s grip tightened, holding him in place. “If I must I will move you into my own suit and keep you locked away. I will not tolerate you behaving like this.”

“And I will not tolerate you behaving like /this//, Sir! First Aid, I request medical asylum on the grounds of abuse and request the beginning of emancipation paperwork.”

First Aid and Prowl stared at him for a long moment. First Aid then turned to Prowl, “Sir, as the medic present at an asylum declaration I must ask you to leave. If you refuse, guards will be summoned to escort you from my med-bay.”

“Smokescreen, you can’t do this!”

“It is this Prowl, or Streetwise and I run away together.”

“Run away together? Where? We are on a ship in the middle of space!”

“That is what escape pods are for.”

“For the love of Primus, I have given you permission to be courted by him. This is becoming completely ridiculous.” Prowl said, moving forward, he grabbed Smokescreen, jerking him off of the medical berth, and pulling him towards the door.

“First Aid, help!” He flailed, trying to get away from Prowl as First Aid watched what was happening, stunned.

“Prowl, you can’t do this. He---”

“I am your commanding officer, and I swear if I hear one more word from you I will lock you away in the brig, First Aid. I swear to Primus.”

First Aid watched as Prowl tried to drag Smokescreen away and frantically commed Jazz. ‘Jazz! Help! I need your help right now in the medbay! It’s Prowl!’

Prowl yanked on Smokescreen’s arm and tried to dislodge him from the doorframe he was clinging to. Suddenly he lunged forward, and scoop up Smokescreen, swinging him over his shoulder.

Luckily at that moment, with Smokescreen kicking and flailing as he dangled over Prowl’s shoulder, that the main med-bay’s doors opened and Jazz ran in, skidded to a stop and then froze at the picture before him.

“What are ya doin’, Prowler?”

Prowl glared, ignoring Smokescreen who was yelling at this point, and doing his best to kick his brother. He was only marginally successful at this point. “I am taking care of family business, what does it look like.” 

“Yeeaah...ah think yah need to put your brother down, and we need to go talk about this like civilized mechs.” 

“No.” 

“What do yah mean ‘No’. Do yah see what your doing Prowl. You look like a mad mech, and you Smokescreen yah sound like a sparkling throwing a fit.”

“Jazz, please stay out of this. I am the head of our clan and Smokescreen must learn to respect my authority.”

Jazz did not look pleased by Prowl’s response. “Ah am your bonded, tha carrier of our sparklings. Ah think Ah got a say here. Yer over reacting Prowler. All yer yelling and bullying is doing is forcing yer brother away. Respect yah? Prowler, yer brother is scared strutless of yah right now.”

Prowl shifted uneasily, “He is defying me!”

Jazz rolled his optics, “Freedom of all sentient beings. Sound familiar, love? Pretty sure this wouldn't go over well with OP. Now. Yer gonna put him down now. If I have to tell yah twice I can guarantee yah won’t be sleepin’ in our berth tonight.”

“Jazz!”

“Ah mean it,” he scowled, tapping his foot impatiently until Prowl finally complied. “Now then.”

“He said he wanted to be emancipated,” Prowl blurted out. 

Jazz vented loudly, “As much as ah do not blame him at the moment, ah don’t think that will be necessary. We’re family. There is few enough of us left. “ His visor settled on the still scowling Smokescreen.

“Smokey, ah know yer upset. Ah understan’ that yer mad at Prow fer leavin; yah on Cybertron an all but-”

“You know nothing about me! Neither of you do! You don’t know me but somehow claim to know what is best for me! Just leave me alone! Both of you! I liked it so much better when I had no family!”

“Smokescreen! You can’t mean that?!”

“Can’t I, First Aid?”

First Aid looked at both of his commanding officers with wide optics. “I---I think you need to calm down before you do anything rash.”

Jazz shook his helm, “No, we don’t understand at all, but you can make us, Smokescreen. Don’t push us away. We care about you.” 

Smokescreen shook, he didn’t want to talk about this. “I want to go back to my room now.”

First Aid moved forward, “I am afraid that you cannot go just yet. You are still not fully recovered from your injuries from on the planet and you just reinjured your doorwings when you were arguing with your brother. You will have to stay over night at the very least.”

Smokescreen grumbled, “Fine. I want them to leave though! I don’t need to be watched when I recharge.”

“We aren’t leavin’ mah mech,” Jazz said crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. “Not until we resolve this.”

Smokescreen vented loudly, shivering. “Can’t you just leave me alone? I’m tired. i don’t want to talk about this any more. I want to go to my room. I don’t care about my doorwings I just want to go.”

“Shh, calm down, Smokescreen. Yer just stressing out yer systems even more. Yah need to rest and relax, First Aid’ll take good care of yah.” 

“Whatever. Just leave me alone. You guys are good at that usually.”

Prowl’s doorwings sank, it was one thing to be fightng with your brother, it was another to see them so depressed looking. He felt terrible about what he had said and done but had no idea how to fix it. That was usually Jazz’s job after all. “Smokescreen…”

Smokescreen cried out, “Can’t you leave me alone. Y-you’re worse t-than he was. A-are you going to lock me in a c-closet next? Make me pray to Primus to make me a better mech?”

“What are you talking about?” Prowl asked, watching his brother shake, and the shaking turn into sobs. He turned to First Aid in confusion. “What is he talking about?”

“I don’t know,” the medic said looking equally puzzled.

“I wouldn't do that, Smokescreen, despite what you think I do care. Who are you talking about?”

“That is none of your concern! Just leave me alone!”

Prowl and Jazz exchanged worried looks with each other. Smokescreen was not acting anything like himself.

Jazz moved closer, reaching out and touching Smokescreen, “Please talk to us, sweetspark.” He pushed his field out. It was full of all the concern and love he could muster. “Sweetspark, please.”

“I-I don’t want to talk about it,” he said again, distraught. “I’m fine. It-it’s none of your business.”

“It is our business, Smokescreen. You obviously are upset about something. Talk to us.”

“Yeah, little bro. Yer safe here, yah got nothin’ ta worry about. No one but us’ll know.”

Smokescreen shivered, and looked as though he was battling with himself, “I...I was awake most of the time on the-the Decepticon ship. The one that captured us.” He shook, “you don’t understand what I went through.” 

“No, we don’t,” Jazz whispered, sitting down beside Smokescreen and putting an arm around him. “We won’t until you tell us.” 

Smokescreen shrugged away the arm and glared, “No! Go away! Leave me alone! Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

Jazz and Prowl frowned and were about to speak again when First Aid interrupted, “Enough. You two are going to have to leave. I am going to give Smokescreen something to help him recharge and then finish his repairs to his doorwings.”

Prowl nodded, “Very well. Inform me when h is online again tomorrow. Recharge well, Smokescreen.”

“We'll bring Blue, would yah like that?”

“I would,” Smokescreen said grudgingly. He huffed, laying back on his stomach as First Aid began to work on putting his wings to right---again. He didn’t protest the Energon drip that First Aid started, or when the medicine burned through his system. He was offline in a matter of kliks. 

Jazz and Prowl headed for the door not looking back.


	6. Chapter 6

Ironhide watched the green neutral walking down the hall towards him. He was holding a tiny pink femme, nearly a newspark. “You are one of the earth mechs aren’t you?” he rumbled, making the mech stop and look up at him.

“I---yes, I am. Will Lennox,” he held a free hand out.

Ironhide looked down at the proffered hand, and back at the mech before clasping arms with him.

“It’s been a long time since anyone has given me the warrior’s salute. I am surprised you knew of it. And who is this little sparkling?”

The mech looked down at his sparkling and smiled softly, “This is my daughter. Her name is Annabelle.”

Ironhide squatted and smiled at the little femme, “Hello there Annabelle.”

The sparkling flung up her hands, cooing at the big mech before her. The smile on her little faceplates made the old warrior laugh. “She is a pretty little thing.”

“Yes, she is,” Lennox agreed, “Just like her mother.” He made a hmming sound, “Do you want to hold her?”

Ironhide’s field flashed out with surprise, “I do. Not many sparklings running around here anymore, what with the war.” He took Annabelle from Lennox, the pink sparkling looked even smaller in his big arms.

She was so tiny compared to him, such a light weight in his arms. “She is so pretty for such a little thing. Where is her, what did you call it, mother?”

The other mech looked away and Ironhide could feel such deep sorrow from his field. “She is gone. I tried to find her after we were changed but there has been no sign of her. I have to assume that she did not survive the change like the others.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, no spark should grow up without it’s creators.” 

Lennox nodded, “It makes things hard. We both miss her.” 

Ironhide rumbled, he could not imagine losing his own mate. Luckily Cromia had proven herself to be very...resilient. His own field reached out, full of sympathy. There wasn’t a mech on shift that had not lost someone, and the knowledge that his brother was gone was fresh in his spark. “I am sorry to hear that you lost her.”

“Thank you. I have to keep going though, for Annabelle’s sake if nothing else. I have to keep going since my little girl can’t take care of herself. If it were just me, I don’t know what I would have done when I lost Sarah.”

“I can understand. I recently lost my brother, or rather, found out I had lost my brother.”

Lennox reached out and touched Ironhide’s arm, “I am sorry for your loss as well. It must be hard to lose a brother.”

“It is. It was unexpected. Always figured I’d be the one that went to the well first.” 

“It’s never easy. I lost a lot of men I considered brothers. On the battlefield that is. They say time helps, but I’ve never really bought that,” Lennox said. 

“Sounds like somethin’ Prime would say.”

“Prime?” Lennox asked, looking puzzled. 

“Prime? Our leader? Or has no one explained our ranks to you?”

“No one has explained anything to us, really. We just got onboard and shown to our quarters. Not really sure how any of this goes if I am honest.”

Ironhide was surprised, ‘Really? Nothing was explained? How to get energon? What about how to use your alt mode? Or your weapons?”

Lennox blinked in what looked like surprise, “Weapons? Alt mode? What do you mean? What are those? We were shown how to get energon but that is it.” 

“Well, then. That won’t do,” Ironhide rumbled. “I will take you to the firing range myself then. We will get this all straightened out. Do you have someone to watch the little mite?”

Lennox blinked at him, “Um...yeah. Sure. Let me go take her to Edna. She’s always happy to watch her.”

“Go ahead then,” Ironhide said, approval in his field. He liked this mech already.

As the mech walked down the hall, Ironhide had to admit to himself that the new mech had a very shapely aft. So nicely curved, it made him want to touch. He felt amusement over his bond with Chromia. ::Admiring the new mech, ‘Hide? He does look nice.::

::He does. He also has the most adorable little femme sparkling. Looks to be barely past new spark age. Pretty little thing.::

:: A sparkling? And a femme? How precious. I want to meet her.::

Ironhide laughed over the bond, ::I’m sure that can be arranged.::

::I wouldn’t mind meeting him either.::

Ironhide laughed harder along the bond, ::We’ll see. I’m taking him to the range.::

“I’m...ah ready. Edna was happy to watch her, thankfully.”

“Come on then,” Ironhide said motioning him to follow, it was tempting not to walk a step behind so he could ogle that shapely aft a while longer.

“Thank you for this, I---ah---appreciate it.”

“Believe me, it is my pleasure. No mech should be unable to fight if the Decepticons attack. Plus you have a bitty to protect, have to make sure she is kept safe as well.”

Lennox beamed and Ironhide found that he liked the way Lennox looked when he smiled. He was quite handsome. A nice dark green, slightly darker than Bulkhead’s armor was. Definitely a warrior frame, so he had to have a few weapons tucked away. He would most likely have to coach the mech along like a youngling just activating his weapon systems.

“Have you found any of your weapons yet? Or have you not a chance to check?”

“We made some guns while we were hiding, but they were zip guns, pretty simple things.”

“No, I mean your built in weaponry. It’s fine, we will work it all out. I’ve helped a lot of youngling with theirs, it’s my job after all.” 

“It is?”

Ironhide winked at him, “I’m the armadas weapons specialist.”

“It’s lucky I ran into you then,” Lennox joked, as he followed Ironhide to the lift.

Ironhide noticed him trying not to gawk, “It’s pretty different than planetside, isn’t it?” 

“In some way, yes. In other’s no. We had elevators that did something similar, but these lifts have none of the jerkiness or roughness that elevators did. And that is just these. There is so much that is similar but different.”

Ironhide was surprised by the mech’s words. How advanced had the species on this planet been before it was cyberformed? He would have to ask one of the Prime’s team about them. “I can see why that would be strange.”

The lift stopped and Ironhide led Lennox down the hall and then into the weapons range.

Ironhide watched Lennox look about at the range itself. “Now what?”, he asked nervously. 

“We can do this a few ways. Normally with younglings we jack in and walk them through the steps of activating their weapon systems. We can do that if you are comfortable enough. It is the easier option.” 

“I...sure why not. Will it hurt?”

Ironhide laughed, “No, it won’t hurt.”

“Sure. What do I do then?”

“Then I will help you isolate your weapons systems. You have a warrior frame so you should have one or two long range and one or two short range weapons. Now, have you explored your frame at all? Or taken an altmode?”

“I-I don’t know what that is,” Lennox said. Ironhide found the confused look on the mech’s faceplates endearing.

“I’ll show you,” he said, “Stand back a bit,” he said, and folding into his altform.

Lennox watched, optics wide. “What the fuck.” He jumped back away pressing himself against the wall. “What WAS that?”

Ironhide changed back into his rootmode, laughing, “Altmode.”

Lennox stayed against the wall, looking at Ironhide with fear. Ironhide quickly stopped laughing when he realized that Lennox was genuinely scared of him now. “It’s okay Lennox. See? It’s just me. An altmode is just that: an alternate mode. We turn from one thing into another. Nothing hurts or breaks, it is still just me.”

Lennox did not calm down, his venting actually increasing and Ironhide felt a rush of fear for the mech. “Lennox? Calm down. You are going to overheat if you keep on like this!”

Ironhide moved closer pushing all of the reassurance that his could through his field, “Lennox? Please talk to me,” he finally moved close enough to touch the mech, and was not caught off guard when he started to struggle. He was not prepared for the wave of fear that hit him when he was that close. It was overwhelming. “Calm down, I won’t hurt you. I promise.” 

::Chromia, frag it all. I need you in the shooting range, and bring a thermal mesh. He’s overheating.::

::What did you do ‘Hide?::

::I was just explaining about altmodes. I didn’t expect for him to react like this.::

::What is he doing?::

::He is venting too hard, his frame is overheating. He… he acts like he is afraid of me.::

::Oh, dear. On my way, sweetspark. I’ll grab a mesh.::

::Thanks Chromia.::

“Lennox, calm down. You are stressing yourself out, you are going to hurt yourself at this rate.”

The mech’s optics were nearly white with fear, but he stopped struggling against Ironhide’s hold on him. He revved his engine, and the purr which seemed to calm Lennox down further.

“Oh, frag,” Chromia said as she came through the door. She threw the cooling blanket around Lennox’s shoulders, and helped Ironhide wrap it about the mech’s chassis.

“Lennox.”

::Should I call First Aid? He does not look good. He really freaked out. It was like seeing Red Alert during a glitch event.::

::Comm him. We need to get him checked out. He overheated pretty badly. Plus First Aid can stay and monitor your lessons with him.::

“Lennox? Can you hear me? I am calling First Aid to come help you. Hold on.”

Lennox looked up at him, his optics unfocused, “Ironhide? I don’t---what happened?”

“Shhhh.... First Aid will be here in a moment. Just stay calm for me. You glitched.” He pulled the cooling blanket up, tucking it completely around Lennox, waiting for the mech’s roaring engine to quiet. “You were overheating on us. Gave me a bit of a scare.”

“You changed, I remember that,” Lennox said, sounding like someone who had imbibed too much highgrade.

“Is his temperature going down?” Chromia asked, the concern in her field washed over Ironhide.

“A bit. Give it a bit more time.” 

::He is starting to cool down, and First Aid is almost here. He will check Lennox for injuries.::

::Good! He had me worried.::

First Aid rushed in the room and immediately homed in on Lennox in the mesh. “Lennox! Hold on, I am here. I will have you fixed up in no time at all.”

He pulled Lennox’s arm out from the blanket and slid open the medical port there, jacking in.

“What are you doing?” the mech murmured, shifting in Ironhide’s grasp.

“I’m rescanning you for virus’ and trying to fix the glitch,” First Aid said patiently.

“Is he going to be okay? I didn't mean to scare him like that,” Ironhide mumbled.

“Physically he will be fine. I am sure that you can help him with the rest. What happened anyway?”

“I didn’t know that they didn’t know about altmodes. I invited him down to teach him how to access his built in weapons and he freaked out when I transformed into my alt-mode.”

First Aid paused. “I had not thought to even ask about that! They are adults or younglings aside from the sparkling. I am so used to grown mechs knowing about such things.”

Ironhide nodded, “Perhaps we should have you here next-time. Frag, it scared the scrap out of me. I thought he was gonna overheat and go into stasis lock before you got here.” 

First Aid nodded, “I am more than willing to help out. I hope the others do not have similar problems, I suppose I should get with Rung and see what we can do to educate them on what it is to be...Cybertronian.” 

“Maybe put a class together? Like I said, I’d be more than willing to help,” Ironhide said, looking down at Lennox. No mech should be that helpless.

“I think that is a very good idea, Ironhide. The former humans know nothing about being like us. Even something simple to us, is terrifying to them. As, no doubt, suddenly being turned human would have been terrifying to us.”

Ironhide shuddered. He had seen a few clips and images of what the humans had been before. He couldn’t imagine why they would prefer to be like that than in superior Cybetronian forms. Their old frames had been so weak….and squishy.

Lennox stirred, becoming more coherent. Enough that he was able to sit up. His cheek plates flushed red, and his field was full of embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I---I just wasn't expecting that.”

He looked away, but made no move to move away from Ironhide. The black bot found he was much more pleased about that then he should be. 

“It’s okay. Should’a expected it. I didn’t give you much warning.”

“I---” Lennox shivered. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“We both messed up. So let’s call it even. Can we start over?”

Lennox smiled, “I would like that. Can we take a stab at the weapons part again?”

Ironhide grinned, Lennox as a mech after his own spark. He could feel Chromia’s amused agreement over the bond. “Sure we can. In fact, with First Aid here it will be a bit easier. He can find your weapons systems more easily than I can.”

“Let’s get you on your feet first,” First Air said, helping Lennox to his feet and made sure he was on steady peds before he let go. “Let’s start then,” the white and red mech said, the picture of efficiency. “No, I’m going to jack back in and I will help you queue up your weapon systems. I’ll show you how to access them.”

“Oh, sure,” Lennox said, watching with wide optics as the jack was pushed into his medical port.

“Good,” First Aid murmured, “Now, you drop your firewalls like this...feel that? Normally it isn’t a step unless someone else is jacked in with you.” 

“It feels odd,” Lennox said, his optics dim. 

“At first, I’m sure.” 

“Now what?”

“Now, try to relax. This might feel a bit odd to you. I am going to go through your systems and locate what weapons you have. When I find them, I will show you where they are located and then add a safety program for the time being.”

“A safety program? What does it do?”

“It will ensure that until Ironhide clears you for full access, you can only access your weapons under supervision and in the weapon’s range.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Lennox said, looking up and meeting Ironhide’s gaze for the briefest of moments.

“Good, good, found the first one. Got it?” First Aid said, drawing Lennox’s attention.

“That does feel....odd.” Will said. The weapons in his arm transformed, and a low whistle left Lennox’s vocalizer. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding. This is...weird. What powers them? How does that even...” 

“Your engine and power-plant. You should have a couple more. Do you think you could access them again?” 

“Yes...I think so.” 

“Now, I want you to try and access it again, without my assistance this time.”

Lennox frowned and Ironhide could almost see his processor working as he concentrated on reactivating his weapon. It was quite adorable. The weapon shuddered and transformed into its active form.

Ironhide gave the cannon an assessing look, it was a decent looking weapon. He couldn’t identify what it was, which was a rare occurrence for him. It made him want to get his servos on it even more. A new weapon, in both senses of the word was an alluring aphrodisiac to Ironhide and he had to force his engine down to avoid letting his engine rev at his desire to touch the virgin metal.

“That’s a nice weapon you got there Lennox.”

“I---yeah. It’s interesting. Not like anything we had on Earth,” Lennox said. 

“Now for the others,” First Aid said, giving Ironhide a knowing look. 

He may have hidden how keen his interest was from Lennox, but First Aid was not fooled. “There should be a matching on on the other side, lets find the systems for that. Can you transform the weapon you have out, and find it again?” 

“I---yeah, it wasn’t that hard once you showed me where it was,” Lennox said with wonder in his voice. First Aid had him transform it several times before he seemed satisfied.

It was all Ironhide could do not to sidle close, and grope Lennox. Hottest thing he had seen in awhile. Chromia snorted, watching him watch Lennox, and the shot of amusement through the bond left him glaring at her.  
::What?::

::You are so obvious, ‘Hide. So eager to get your servos on virgin metal. Touch those pretty new guns of his and see what they can do.::

::Hmph. And you don’t? Don’t try to deny it, I can feel how much you want it too!::

::Why would I deny it? All I am saying is that if you don’t want to spook him again, rein it in a bit. I want a turn with the cutie myself.::

::Mmm. He would look so good with us, between us.::

::Mmm. He would! Stop it though, Hide. Focus on getting the prize first!::

::Optic on the prize, right. I can do this.::

Chromia chuckled across the bond at his enthusiasm. ::I think he will be worth the effort.::

::Frag, so do I,:: Ironhide said, shaking himself off mentally. As much as he wanted to touch he knew she was right. The mech was skittish right now. He couldn't blame him at all.

“You are doing great,” First Aid remarked, “Ready for the close range weapons?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Most common are swords or axes. Also defensive weapons like shields are pretty common too, although I doubt you have that. Ready to look?” 

“I have no idea how to use any of those,” Lennox said shifting.

“I’m sure Ironhide will be happy to help.”

:: I told you that you were obvious, Hide. Even Aid noticed. I think you are lucky that Lennox is still too shaken to be paying proper attention, otherwise even he would be noticing your...antics.::

::Slag, I can’t help it! He is so hot, and those cannons! I don’t even know what they do! That is so rare and hot! I want to tinker with them, explore every wire and circuit and then move on to him!::

::Cool down, Ironhide.I can hear your engine straining.::

Ironhide grumbled, and tried to rein himself in, but his imagination was getting the better of him. ::Frag it all, I can’t help it.::

Chromia’s long suffering sigh was expected. ::Hide, what am I going to do with you?::

Her bondmate’s growl across the bond was equally expected, ::Frag me into the berth. All slagging revved up, and First Aid keeps glaring at me.::

Chromia laughed louder, ::Subtlety has never been your strong point.::

::Just shut it, meddling femme.::

“What the hell...” He almost missed the expression on Lennox’s faceplates when a compartment on his thigh opened up, revealing the hilt of an energon blade. “Are you serious?”

First Aid laughed, “Yes, you should be able to activate the others.” 

“I guess I should be happy it’s not a sword. I don’t know what in the hell i’d even do with that.”

First Aid laughed a little and patted Lennox’s arm, “Well, I hate to break it to you then, but you have one final weapon after this.”

Lennox looked at First Aid in shock and then groaned, “Don’t tell me!”

First Aid laughed again, “I am afraid so. You are the proud owner of a shiny new sword.”

Lennox buried his helm in his servos. “A sword? Why me? Why a sword?”

“It’s not so bad,” Ironhide rumbled before he even thought about it. “You have the frame for it.” 

“I do?” Lennox said innocently, turning as First Aid broke out in laughter again. Lennox looked puzzled for a moment, and looked between the mechs, a look of suspicion inching onto his face slowly. “Uh huh, and Ironhide would be willing to show me that too? Wouldn’t he?” 

Ironhide opened his mouth and shut it abruptly. Busted. He was so busted.

::Smooth move Hide.:: Chromia cackled. ::I hope this is still salvageable.::

“Of course I would, Lennox. I am the weapons master. It is my duty to ensure that everyone aside from the sparklings and younglings are able to defend yourself. Have I said something to cause you to not trust me?”

Lennox relaxed a little but still gave him a distrusting look. “What exactly did you mean I had the frame for a sword?”

Ironhide gave him the best innocently puzzled look he could, “I meant that your frame is light, agile and that a sword would work well with your frame’s abilities.”

Lennox relaxed further but still kept an optic on Ironhide. “Fine. Show me where this sword is First Aid.”

“Mmmm...let’s see. Got it,” First Aid said.

“Yes,” Lennox said, peering back behind his back at the minute transformation there. He wiggled, and Ironhide found it impossible not to stare. “Got it.” He pulled the sword out, staring at it in a puzzled manner.

Lennox looked back, and caught Ironhide staring at him again.

He gave Ironhide a distrustful look and shifted slightly closer to First Aid. “So how do I put this thing away? Does it just stick to my back? Do I walk around with it out and letting it get stuck on everything?”

First Aid laughed, “You put it away the same way it came out. It will magnetize and draw the sword back into its sheath when you put it away. It is that simple. Why don’t you ask Ironhide to walk you through how to use your weapons or ask Weapon Master Chromia to do so.”

Lennox looked from Ironhide to Chromia and looked at the both critically, before finally motioning to Ironhide. “Well? How do I use this thing?”

Ironhide shot an annoyed look at First Aid as he came up behind Lennox’s back, his field pulling in tight against his armour. “You are holding it wrong. Here, move your hand down, like this.” He moved Lennox’s hands around until he seemed pleased. “Best way for this kinda sword is to have a knife in the other hand, it’s a lighter one, not something you need two hands for.” 

“You want it to be an extension of your arm, if that makes any sense.”

“A bit,” Lennox said, frowning.

“Honestly, We might want to ask Mirage to teach you the finer points, once we get you up to speed.” 

‘Mirage? That was the guy who gave us the tour along with the little guy right? Why would he teach me?”

“Mirage is a noblemech from the towers. They made sword fighting into an artform there, so he would be your best teacher once you have a handle on the basics with me.”

“So he is the expert? Why wouldn’t he teach the basics too then?”

“Mirage is a very busy mech. He is a member of Jazz’s team as well as a single caretaker of his adopted sparkling. Well, youngling now. Prism is very shy and is often with Mirage at all times.”

“So he has a lot on his plate?”

Ironhide trying to puzzle out what the mech was talking about, “Yes, he is very busy. It would be asking too much of him to teach you the basics, he also...is not the most patient of mechs.”

Lennox nodded, “I can understand that,” he said accepting Ironhide’s explanation. “You have...er...time then?” 

Ironhide nodded, even if he didn’t he would have made time...not that Lennox needed to know that at the moment. “I do. Like I said, it’s my job. 

“It would also be my pleasure. Yah seem like a nice enough mech and yer group of mechs and femmes has attracted a lot of attention. I’d like ta get ta know yah and all. What was it yah did before you changed?”

Aside from being squishy.

Lennox shifted a little, “I was in the military with a few of the others. The rest we found at the school my wife had worked in. We found no sign she had even made it through the change.”

Ironhide brightened at that, “You were in the military? Makes sense. You have the bearing of a warbuild. Good to know.”

“Yeah,” he squirmed under Ironhide’s attention.

“You will fit in easier here, I think. Not many civilians on board.”

“I....I guess,” Lennox vented.

“Believe me, we have been in a war for longer that your species had existed. War is all we know anymore. You having military experience will give you common ground with many of the mechs onboard this ship as well as the other ships in the fleet.”

“I...am not sure if I want to join your military. I have a daughter to raise alone now. I won’t give her up or lose her. She is all I have.”

Ironhide laughed, “We have sparkling creches as well as youngling school and activities. You will always have someone to take care of her if you can not.”

Lennox shifted on his peds, his faceplates shifting into the most stubborn look Ironhide had ever seen, “I don’t want others to raise her. She’s my daughter.” 

“I didn’t mean to upset you, we aren’t going to make you fight, Lennox. It is your choice to or not to.” It seemed to mollify the new mech, and Ironhide let out a ventilation he did not know he had been holding. “There is a place here for civilians as well, if that is what you chose to be.” 

“I can’t leave Annabelle. She has already lost her mother,” Ironhide could hear the mech’s fans kicking on as emotion got the better of him.

“Lennox, it’s gonna be alright, I promise you. No one is gonna take your little spark from you, I promise you that.”

“We’ll see,” Lennox said in a subdued tone.

“Lennox, I swear to you on my spark that ain’t no one gonna take yer bitty. If anyone tries, I’ll kick their aft and bring her back to you.”

Lennox did not cheer up and instead looked more worried.

::Way to go, moron! You just said someone might try to take his sparkling! He was already upset! ::

Ironhide cringed at her words. He had put his ped in it this time. “Lennox, I….no one would try to take her. No Autobot would separate a sparkling from their creator without a very good reason, like abuse or neglect.”

Lennox watched him for a moment, and finally nodded. “I will hold you to that.”

Ironhide nodded, determined to not let the mech down. “Good.” 

::Be quiet, Chromia. Just be quiet.::

“It’s hard not knowing the rules or your customs.” 

“I...I am sure we can find someone to help educate you on that,” First Aid piped up.

Lennox looked pleased, “That would be appreciated. I am sure that all of us could use it, so we don’t end up insulting everyone or breaking some taboo.”

First Aid laughed, “We don’t have many of those to be honest. Most mechs will be understanding that you did not mean to be insulting or rude. As for taboos, those are even rarer. I am sure you will catch on in no time.” 

Lennox smiled, “I can hope at least.”

“I am sure you will fit in just fine,” First Aid smile, “And we will all help you in all ways we can. It is what we do.” 

“It is...an Autobot thing?” Lennox asked as if testing the word.

“Yes, exactly that,” First Aid beamed. “Exactly. Freedom of all sentient beings, as Optimus would say.” 

“Oh,” Lennox said, more curious than he was willing to show.

“Yes, it is our core tenet of our beliefs. It is part of the reason that we are so outraged that this was done to your species. You were forced into this and from what we have learned the Decepticons are to blame. They are beyond contemptible for this.”

Lennox studied First Aid, “You really believe that don’t you?”

“Of course! What the Cons have done goes against my beliefs as an Autobot and as a medic.”

Lennox stared at him a while longer before giving a minute nod, “Thank you. I...you can understand my worry?”

First Aid nodded, “We can.”

Lennox smiled, “Thank you.”

Ironhide grinned, “Now, let’s see how you do on the range.”

OoOoOoOo

Flamewar glared at the mech who laid on her as well as her nest. Her former mate had not left her alone. In fact he had done the opposite, clinging to her side and refusing to let her do anything on her own. His massive bulk curled around her as well as the nest and she sighed, at least her nest was protected. She shifted grumpily, the mech’s weight uncomfortable on her back. Suddenly she felt a shift, from beneath her! Her eggs!

They were hatching! She felt first one shift beneath her, and then another. “Get up, get up, they are hatching!” She pushed at her former mates bulk, nipping at him when that did not get him moving.

Predaking jumped away, optics wide as he circled the nest. More eggs began to rock and finally the first of the eggs developed a crack. Flamewar trilled encouragingly, but it still seemed to take forever before the first egg cracked open revealing a little dragonling. It was protoform silver, and had the biggest blue optics Flamewar had ever seen. It cheeped, moving on unsteady peds towards her.

It was so cute! And all hers! Let Megatron try to take one of her sparklings now! She would offline him on the spot.

Predaking gave a soft croon and nudged the little one gently with his snout. The little one fell over and batted at the offending snout with respectable ferocity, tiny growls and snarls adorning tiny swipes of even tinier claws.

A second hatchling popped from its egg and blearily looked around at this strange new place it found itself. Like the first, it made its way toward the ones that instinct told him would have fuel for him.

Predaking offered the two a feeding-line from his wrist, and Flamewar imagined she would have the same. She was alarmed when one of the hatchlings, nuzzled her underbelly instinctively....and latched on. She jumped up in surprise, dislodging the hatchling who cried out in alarm and hunger. She made a disgruntled noise before settling back down, and let the hatchling move back to where it was. It felt decidedly...odd. 

She vented, laying down as more hatchlings gathered about her cheeping in hunger. They were demanding little things. The feeling of the hatchlings latching on was becoming oddly nice. It felt more soothing as she got used to it.

She watched lazily as the rest of the clutch hatched and more sparklings hurried over on their unsteady peds and latched on. The longer she fed her hatchlings, the more relaxed she felt. Well, almost. While she felt more relaxed, and the fueling process actually felt nice once she got used to feeling the energon leave her frame, there was one problem.

It was also making her aroused for some reason.

It made her wiggle, which dislodged some of the hatchlings. They would chirp at her angrily, scolding her. How dare she move when they were feeding! They thought made her smile inside. The warmth still spread through her making it hard to ignore, and with it came annoyance. She glared at her former mate, and knew it was all his fault. 

All his fault. She could tell the way he sidled up close to her.

He nudged two of the sparklings away from her and began to feed them from his wrists. She looked around and saw first two he had been feeding were curl up next to the nest in recharge.

She still did not trust him at all, and kept a close optic on the mech. Once the two he was feeding were done, he set them next to the other two he had fed. He then dug inside the nest and removed the top most mesh carefully so all the broken eggshell parts stayed inside it.

He set the mesh to the side and then resettled the hatchlings in the now clean nest.

She fluffed up her armour, unsure of his good intentions. He had proven traitorous in the past and she could not forget that. He had given their eggs away, and he would probably do it again.

He continued tidying up, and eventually left with the dirty meshes. He was not gone long, and even tried to curl around her when he came back. She growled, but let him because she did not want to disturb the other sparklings.

That was what she told herself anyway.

As the sparklings drifted in recharge after their fueling, Predaking picked each one up gently and set them back in the nest where they snuggled up to their siblings. They were adorable, really. All shiny silvery gray. She watched as all but one hatchling finished its meal and let go.The last one was stubborn and just kept feeding.

Finally, Predaking leaned over and took the hatching from her. He settled it in the nest where it glared balefully before curling up with the others. She looked over her hatchlings in their safe and warm nest contentedly.

She rolled to her feet and stretched her wings and legs after laying so long but then suddenly there was a familiar weight on her back! “Get off of me Predaking! You are not my mate!”

“I am your mate, Flamewar. My little claws. Hush now, or you will wake the hatchlings!”

She tried to wiggle out from under him, growling warningly, but the beast ignored it, nipping at her neck needily. It made her temperature spike, her frame betraying her as much as her mate had.

“You are not my mate, you gave away my egg.”

“They are all here now,” he rumbled, his spike pressing against her. “Be reasonable, my mate.”  
“You gave him my sparklings! You are an unworthy sire! Leave my nest!”

“I am your mate, I will not leave. I will protect you and our hatchlings!”

“You FAILED us last time!”

Predaking shifted above her and she squealed as he thrust his spike within her. She glared over her shoulder, “Get off of me!”

“This is your place, my sweet little mate. We must begin on our next clutch after all.”

“No, I will not. These are not even grown yet, you foolish mech.” Her claws dug into the metal floor, carving deep scars.

He thrust into her hard, wringing a gasp from her. “You will. It is your responsibility to propagate our race.”

“No, you can’t---” she whimpered as he ground into the ceiling node of her valve. It felt as good as it always did, but she was just so mad at him. She wanted to turn and rip into him.

“Don’t fight it,” he purred above her.

She growled and tried to bite at Predaking over her shoulder. She did not want him to think she had forgiven him, because she had not! Not at all! “I will never forgive you! Monster! Betrayer!”

“Calm yourself, Flamewar.” He thrust gently within her, interfacing with her softly and gently. It was markedly different from what she was used to from him. He was usually so rough and needy.

Now he nipped gently along her neck and nuzzled along her frame. “I love you, my Flamewar. My Mate.”

She purred, despite herself, it felt wonderful. Good. Right. “I have not forgiven you,” she said, but there was little weight to the words.

“I know, and you will not for a long time I expect. I still love you, I will always love you.” 

She keened beneath him, at odds with herself. His spike filled her, spreading her wide and easing an ache she had not realized was there.

She growled, “Just finish already! I am still mad at you!”

Her ma- Predaking rumbled behind her, “Shh, Do not be so impatient my little femme. I wish to make this good for you. This is my thank you. Thank you for our wonderful hatchlings. I look forward to raising them with you.”

She shifted, she was not going to be taken in by his sweet sounding words. He would have to prove himself to her!

She huffed, making a show of her displeasure, even as she arched into every thrust. It felt so very, very good. No---it wasn’t---it couldn’t be.

“I love you, my spark,” Predaking purred, nuzzling her neck, and nibbling on the underside. “You are the best carrier in existence. Our sparklings are perfect, and I love you for that as well. They will be strong and fast, I can tell already. Strong, fierce warriors.” 

They would be. They were her offspring, she knew this. They would be the best.

She would make sure of it. Of course with her as their carrier, how could they not be? She would teach them to breathe plasmafire, and stalk prey and how to fight. She would regretfully have to have Predaking teach them to fly, along with her learning herself.

She trembled and shuddered, an overload shaking her frame. Predaking following soon after.

They were still tangled together when the door slipped open revealing Ratchet---which was a welcome surprise, and Megatron---which had Flamewar scrambling to her peds and hissing.

The monster ignored her altogether, and stomped over to the nest and woke the hatchlings with all of his noise. “What is this? They are all...silver. Where is the red one?” the stupid mech demanded. Flamewar hated him. “What have you done to them?” The mech shouted, louder this time. “I am greatly disappointed.” 

Flamewar slinked between her nest and the hated mech. Lord her aft.

She saw Ratchet to the side. the medic had hidden his face in his servos when he had walked in and saw her with her ma- Predaking. Even now he was looking at her and then looking away. She was not sure why. Sure she had trickles of energon on her underbelly from when the hatchlings fed from her. Hmm and judging by the feeling as she shifted she might have some of Predakings fluids leaking from her again.

Ratchet skirted the wall, trying to move close enough to see the hatchlings but not get close to Megatron. Predaking moved forward, standing between the hatchlings and Megatron. “My lord, you have woken the sparklings. I must insist that you stop yelling! No, none of the sparklings are red. That is the way they hatched.”

By now there was chorus of hungry chirps, squeaks and cheeps coming from the nest.

Megatron scowled down at them, “They are far louder than I imagined anyway. You can keep your fledglings.” He stomped off, slamming the door behind him.

Ratchet seemed to relax some, moving closer so he could actually examine the hatchlings, but he looked everywhere but at Flamewar. it was very odd.

“They look good,” the medic pronounced, “I take it their first feeding went well?”

She shifted, “Yes. They fed well, from both Predaking and myself. It was a bit hard to get some of them to let go if I am honest.”

The hatchlings were still cheeping and squeaking hungrily, so she moved over the nest and lay down, wincing as most of the hatchlings latched on at once. Primus their fangs were sharp already!

Predaking had watched Megatron leave and then came up beside her nuzzling her worriedly. “Are they alright? Are they settling back down?”

She purred, pleased with his display, and how quickly he made the hated mech leave. “They are well.” Her purring seemed to have a calming effect on the fledglings. “They will soon,” she said, “I think I need to refuel.” She was starting to feel the events of the day, and the sparklings feeding from her was taking it all out of her. 

“Oh, I am sorry, my mate. I did not think of that.”

“It is fine. You did well driving that mech from our nest.” 

Predaking preened at her words. “I will get you some cubes to fuel on. You are supplying many now with fuel.”

She nodded and as he left, Ratchet came forward. “Mik- Flamewar? I need to check the hatchlings. Would you be able to move to the side so I can check them?”

She shifted slightly and lifted a wing, exposing half of her litter to his optics, and the other half, dove under her frame to the newly exposed spouts. “You may check them.”

“May I pick them up to scan them?”

She considered, she did not think he would hurt them. He was a good mech. She could tell this. “You may.”

“Thank you, Flamewar,” he said and began to scan each individual hatchling. He was still working through them when Predaking returned bringing the energon.

Her tank rumbled loudly. She was indeed famished.

She took the cubes from Predaking, chugging them down as quickly as she could. Her frame called out for fuel but after she finished off the three cubes, her tank settled back down. Predaking came over and glared at Ratchet, “What are you doing to our hatchlings?!”

Ratchet gave Predaking a flat look. “I am checking them to make sure that they are all healthy. So hush up, and let me finish, so I can put them back down.”

Predaking growled and grumbled, “Hurry up then. I do not like you near them.” His armour puffed up, and he circled around the nest watching Ratchet the entire time.

Ratchet glared back, and he took his time to check each one out. Clearly he didn’t care what the giant lizard said. Flamewar admired the old mech’s gumption.

“Leave him be, my mech. He is just making sure out hatchlings are well. Glaring at him is not going to change that.”

OoOoOoOo

Mikaela had hidden for days after she had woken up...changed as she was. It was getting harder and harder to avoid the faceless robots. She had seen them herd other robots like herself, doing lord knows what to them. It was terrifying. She had taken to going out only at night, hoping it would keep her hidden away, but they were far too close now.

She needed to move and find another hiding place before the robots found her. She had no intention of ending up like the others she had seen led away. She had been lucky enough to avoid the patrols they had started in some areas but she knew her luck would not hold forever. She had to get out of here.

She edged her way out the partially collapsed grocery store she had moved into after the change. It was a good hiding spot since no one came into it. She looked around to see if any of the robots were nearby and was nearly blinded when a bright light shone right into her eyes.

She scrambled back, hoping for the briefest moment that she could hide, but she was grabbed by the arm and wrenched from her hiding place. She screamed, struggling. “Let me go,” she howled. “Fucking let me go.”

She was pulled out and roughly pinned to the ground, her arms wretched behind her back. It hurt.  
The robot behind her laughed, “This one is full of spirit.”

“They will have fun with him upstairs.”

“Yeah. Glad they get to do all the slag jobs now. We get to live the good life.”

“Oh yeah. And a whole new planet of resources for the taking. A brand new Cybertron!”

Cybertron? What the frag was Cybertron? Whatever it was she did not like the sound of what was going to happen to her if she let them take her.

She managed to flip herself over and kicked at them, “Fucking jerks, get away from me.”

They both scrambled away, seemingly surprised that he was putting up a fight. “What the slag.” 

“Get away from me. I’m not going anywhere with you.” She managed to get to her feet and threw herself at the guards.

She barreled past the guards who seemed utterly confused at to what she was doing. Had they never had someone try to get away like this before? Morons.

She ran past the two mechs and hurried down the ruined road that ran through what was left of the town. Unfortunately, two more of the robots cut her off and she was forced to turn and run into a nearby store. She squirmed and crawled up the stairs. If she could barely get through, the bigger robots never would.

She found herself up on the roof with the robots surrounding her building. She was trapped!

Suddenly she heard a sound she had not heard since before she had changed and she screamed as something grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off the ground.

They rose higher in the air, giving her a good look at the firefight below. The scream died on her lips as she watched other robots seemingly slaughter the ones who were chasing after her. She closed her optics, not wanting to see it.

They moved swiftly over the trees before finally coming to land in a clearing miles away from where they had been. 

As soon as she was released and on the ground, she scrambled away from the thing that had grabbed her. It was another robot. Great! She thought she had been rescued. This day seemed to just go from bad to worse. She kept an eye on the robot, but was dismayed when several other robots came breaking through the woods along the clearing.

She looked around for a weapon, but found nothing but trees. What the fuck was she going to do now? 

“Calm down, we aren’t going to hurt you,” one said, moving towards her slowly, “Let’s get the cuffs off of you, okay?”

She scuttled back, “Stay away from me.” 

“Go slow, Groove. They really spooked this one.”

“I don’t blame them for being scared. You would be too in their place. Nice rescue Blades.”

“Hmph! Of course it was good.”

The one by her moved closer, “Easy now. Mind telling us your name? Was there anyone with you we need to go back for? We would rather not let the Vehicons take any more of you.”

“Vehicons?” she finally squeaked, getting her bearings, they didn’t rush at her like the other ones did. 

“Yeah, the Cons that tried to take you. They have been herding up you guys to take you up to the Nemesis. They...yeah...it’s complicated,” the one called Groove said. “Can we get the cuffs off now?” 

“I---” she looked at them, and vented loudly, “Sure. I’m Mikaela, and no there wasn’t anyone but me.” She cringed when she said it as if she expected them to do an about face, instead Groove just came around and released the cuffs.

As soon as her hands were free, she scrambled back and kept a large space between her and the robots. She was not going to let them get too close. Who knew what they were really after? “W-what are you? Who are you? What do you want? What is going on here?”

The robots looked at each other, exchanging a look. One of them moved a little closer, “Calm down there. You will throw a gear if you keep stressing like that.”

“We are Cybertronians, Autobots,” the one that had grabbed her earlier said. “Those mechs whose afts we kicked were Decepticons.” He smirked, liked that explained everything.

The smaller one huffed, “The Decepticons cyberformed your world, making you like you are. They don’t know we are here. We are gathering intelligence and saving those we can of your people. Sadly it is not many. The change has left many...out of their processors.”

“You mean crazy,” she said softly.

“Crazy and worse. We found one not too far from here, mech had a pile of severed helms. Mech had started to drain other mecha for their fluids. We had to put him down when he tried to eat Aid over there.”

“I told you that you should not be so close to him, Aid! You heard me tell him that, Spot!”

The small mech was glaring at the tallest mech. The tallest mech sighed and nodded, “You did, Blades. I also told him to stay close to the group.”

Mikaela stared as they continued to bicker like a bunch of ill mannered elementary school kids. Or brothers. But they couldn’t be, they were robots? Right?

“Yeah, does it matter?” she asked, interrupting what seemed to be becoming a full blown argument.

They turned, all staring at her.

“Well, does it? Really?”

The small mech scowled at her, “What the frag kind of question is that? Of course it fragging matters! He is our brother! We aren’t going to stand aside and let him get eaten by some fragging crazy mech! What kind of mechs do you think we are?”

She stared at the mech in shock, What? Brothers? How could they be brothers if they were robots? Unless, they had been humans before- but what they had said didn’t sound like it was possible. “Brothers? What?”

“Yeah, we are brothers, is that so hard to imagine? I know it’s a bit unusual for a carrier to carry so many at once, but it’s not that unusual.” 

Mikaela stared and tried to make sense of what they were saying, “So you weren’t...like...assembled.” 

They stared back. “No,” the one called First Aid said. “Definitely not. We had parents just as you did. We are Cybernetic lifeforms. We reproduce.” 

Her optics widened. It was like she had stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone. “You are serious?” 

“Completely,” First Aid said.

She stared at them and began to laugh. It was official. She was insane. Completely bat-shit crazy. She was safely locked away in some mental hospital in the real world. Her only real concern was that she might be getting bed sores on her ass. It had always been one of her best features. She hoped she had some cute nurses.

Yep. She was crazy. None of this was real. She was just hallucinating. She frowned at the robot now looking at her worriedly, “Why are you still here? You should have turned into Brad Pitt or George Clooney by now. This is my delusion, where are my hot guys?”

“I do not know what this Pitt or Clooney is, but we should be going,” the tallest of the robots said.

“Sure, why not,” Mikaela said, convinced none of this was real. “Where?”

“To our ship, and then to the Axiom,” the mech that had rescued her said.

“And then to the medbay,” First Aid added.

“Oh, fine,” Mikaela said, and let them herd her. It was as if she had fallen through a rabbit's hole. A rather odd mechanical one.

She drifted closer to the one that had rescued her. It was kind of cute. There were long rotor blades on his back that her hands itched to touch. Well, why not? This was her delusion wasn’t it? She grabbed the rotor blades and gave them a squeeze. The short mech yelped and moved away from her.

“What the frag?! What do you think you are doing?!?”

The rest of the mechs all laughed and shoved at the shorter mech. “The look on your face, bro!”

Mikaela watched their reactions with wide optics. it all seemed very real, if odd.

“Frag, don’t grab a mech like that. Those are sensitive!” 

“Oh?” she asked, leaning in she did it again. “Really?”

He huffed, his engine revving loudly, “I mean it,” he said, swatting at her. “I’m not a---don’t do that. I don’t know you.” 

The other robots snickered even louder, and the biggest one herded them towards what had to be the ship they were referring to.

“This is the weirdest dream,” Mikaela said as she climbed in and looked around.

“Man! Even in my dreams I fly coach? Where are the comfy seats? The nice stewardesses bringing me Bahama Mamas and Orange Navals? This is terrible! Is there at least a good in flight movie?”

The mechs kept exchanging looks like they knew she was crazy. Well, she knew it too so it wasn’t like it was a huge secret. She was nuttier than a squirrel turd as her Meemaw would have said. “What? Where is my blanket and pillow? How long is the flight? Can we go to Vegas instead? I bet I can at least win in my dream!”

“This isn’t a dream,” First Aid said. “I am not sure what I can do to reassure you that it is not.”

“Pinch me,” Mikaela laughed, and then shrieked when First Aid reached out and pinched a wire. “What the fuck, that hurt.” 

“I imagine it did,” First Aid agreed. 

“Fuck, why did you do that?” she rubbed the area, feeling disgruntled. Maybe it wasn’t a dream. 

“You should strap in. We are taking off momentarily,” Groove said. 

Somehow she ended up sitting between Blades and First Aid. The former seemed intent on ignoring her, huffing loudly.

It made no sense why were the people- er robots in her hallucination so mean to her? So she groped one. It was fun. He made a funny squeal and an even hotter moan. She would love to touch them again. In fact…..

The mech squealed and jumped to his feet, his back turned away from her. “What the frag do you think you are doing? Why the frag do you keep groping me!? I already told you to stop that!”

The other robots were all snickering and laughing which seemed to just get the robot more upset. “It’s not funny guys!”

They laughed louder, and Mikaela could not help but snicker herself. He was… oddly kinda cute like that. Everything about him was adorable.

“No need to get all hot and bothered,” Mikaela teased. It earned her a scathing look.

“I’m not! J-just leave me alone.” 

“Are you sure? You sound like you are, maybe I should check.” Mikaela moved to try and get out of her seat but was stopped by the seatbelt that one of the robots had fastened around her. “Hey! How do I get out of this thing?”

“You don’t. Not until we reach the ship. Blades, you need to sit down as well. You are setting a terrible example for our guest.”

She gave the tallest mech a wary look, “You aren’t going to start singing that song are you? No singing furniture right? I don’t think I could deal with that even in my delusions.”

“No, none of us are going to sing,” the biggest mech said, and moved to the front to take the pilots chair.

Michaela gave him another sidelong glance not sure if she believed him. “Okay.” 

“You’ll like it on the Axiom, there are a few mechs and femmes from below. And we are working on getting a class together to educate you about well...things.” 

Michaela blinked at him. What? 

She gave the mech a suspicious look, “What kind of things? I am not doing any kinky alien breeding program crap! Or being used as a lab rat or shoved in some bizarre alien zoo! Or being used a food!”

She tried to think of other science fiction movies or stories she had heard of that could pop up. “Or used to power your computers!”

“What the frag is he babbling about? I think this one is as broken as the others, just less violent.”

“Hush, Blades. I’ll give him a thorough exam when we get back to the med-bay.”

“He? What is this he thing? I’m a girl,” she huffed, glaring at them all hard. “Are you telling me I look like a man, because if you are I don’t think you are going to like what I do when I get free of this---thing.” 

“You’re a femme?” the one with the cute blades on his back asked. “Oh, yeah, I can see that.” He skittered away when she reached for him again.

“You are just bigger than femmes usually are,” First Aid said, “Usually they are cyclebots. Clearly you are not.” 

“Clearly,” she said, although she did not think it was clear at all, nor was she sure what a cyclebot was. 

The smallest robot poking the one with the blades on his back, “Hee! I didn’t know you liked femmes, Blades. Way to go, a date already on an alien planet!”

The other robot punched the smaller robot in the arm, “Shut up Groove!”

“Both of you knock it of! You are not seeing a good example for our guest!”

“Sorry Spot.”

“Hmph! Whatever!”

Mikaela raised a browplate, he was a cutie despite his apparent grumpiness… or maybe because of it. The bladed robot finally sat back down next to her, giving her a wary side glance.

She clasped her hands together, because it was far too tempting to tweak those blades again, just to hear him yelp. She giggled, “This is so awesome.”

It felt odd when they finally took off, jarring as the shot through the air, although, there were no windows to look out of. That was a bit disappointing.

“It’s not a long trip,” First Aid said beside her.

“So no in flight movie then? Damn. I was hoping it was going to that movie with all the hot guys that are really buff. The spartan one. Mmm. Those guys were so hot!”

She gave the mech next to her a quick glance out of the corner of her eye and seeing that he was ignoring her, she tweaked his rotors again. “You aren’t too bad though, even if you don’t have sexy abs.”

“What the frag is wrong with you? Are you glitched?”

She laughed, “No, are you?” She leaned in, plucking at them again, he squealed.

“Hot Shot, Help me! Someone help me! She won’t stop groping me!”

Groove snorted, “I don’t know why you are complaining. I’d be perfectly happy if a hot femme wanted to grope me.”

Blades shot Groove a withering look. “I hate you.”

“You are just being grumpy. Relax and enjoy it! Once she sees some of the other mechs on board, she won’t think you are so cute anymore.”

Hmm… there were hotter guys where they were going? This was turning out to be a great hallucination! Hot guys, cool aliens and no bills or work to be seen! “Hey, does your ship have a pool? I mean, all cruise ships have pools right?”

The Bots exchanged a look, “A pool of what?”

“Water, although now that I think about it, I doubt I would float.”

“Some of the officer’s rooms have hot oil baths,” Groove added helpfully. “Not really a pool though. Feels awesome.” He grinned, “You can use ours, I’m sure Hot Spot won’t mind.” 

“Groove!” Blade’s yelled, “Shut up. She cannot.” 

Mikaela purred, “I’d love that.”

“See, Blades? And I am sure that you can give her a… lesson on how to work them. Wouldn’t that be nice and cozy?”

“I am going to slag you Groove!”

“Blades! You need to calm down! Groove, stop goading Blades! Miss, I must insist that you refrain from groping Blade’s rotors. That behavior is unacceptable.”

What a party pooper! Ruining her fun, well it was her hallucination so she would do as she liked!

She watched Blade’s through slitted optics, and wondered exactly what she should do. He was still huffing a sputtering. Her hand reached up and he leaned away.

“Stop it, stop it right now!”

“What if I don’t want to?” she laughed, then suddenly leaned in and kissed him.

He stared at her, frozen in shock with huge deer in the headlight eyes locked onto her. He was so stunned he didn’t even move away, giving her the opportunity to slip her tongue into tangle with his.

Hmmm. He tasted…..sweet. Like he had been eating candy. It was nice.

He finally seemed to realize what was going on and jerked away from her and leapt from his seat. “What the frag?!”

“What? He said no touching your… rotors? I didn’t. I kissed you.”

He stared at her, blinking. He didn’t even know how to answer that. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “I--don’t---I didn’t---why would you---”

Groove laughed, “I think you broke him. maybe you should do it again.”

Mikaela laughed, “Maybe I should.”

“Oh pit no!” WIth that, Blades moved to the front of the small ship and nudged another robot. “Street! Switch places with me!”

The other mech gave Blades a stern look. “After how much of an aft you have been to me and Smokey? I don’t think so. You can go deal with it like a mech and not a sparkling!”

Blades looked angry at that, “I am not a sparkling!”

Streetwise barked a laugh, “Could have fooled me by the way you were acting with Smokey.” Streetwise glared.

“But---”

“Go sit down, Blades.” 

Blade’s roters quivered in distress. “Street---”

“Go sit down,” the other mech snapped.

Blades seemed to wilt. He turned and went back to his seat, lower lip quivering. 

He was about to sit down when Groove sighed, “Blades, if you are going to be such a sparkling, I’ll trade with you.

Blades’ eyes looked up at the other robot and he looked wary, “Really Groove? What in it for you?”

Groove undid his seatbelt and got up sighing and shaking his head. “I expect you to be nicer to Smokey after this, Blades. Or I will make sure that that femme knows your location at all joors of the sol!”

Joors? Sol? What were they talking about? Shouldn’t they be making sense if it was her dream? Or were they not making sense because she would expect to not understand. He head hurt now.

She let her head flop back on the seat and gave Groove a sideways glance. He wasn’t nearly as interesting as Blades was, but he was still pretty cute. “Why does he have such a problem with me?”

Groove’s optics flicked from Mikaela to Blades and back, “I shouldn’t say, really.” 

Mikaela huffed, “Well now you have to tell me. And...yeah...what the fuck is a Joor?” 

“A joor? Is...a joor? I don't know what to compare it to for you. I am told that you humans had your own way of marking time. I would have to know your units to convert it properly.”

Hmm. that made sense she supposed. “What kind of units do you need? We had a lot of them. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, centuries, uh- fortnights and leap year and bicentennials. All that stuff.”

If anything the robots looked more confused.

Mikaela huffed, “A second is like a---um----second. It passes like...I dunno you count them off like 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi. A minute is sixty seconds. an hour is sixty minutes. A day is 24 hours, or one rotation of the planet. You know it’s dark and then it’s light.” 

The robot tilted it’s head and considered, “A joor is about six of your hours.” 

“Oh. That’s an odd number,” she squinted her optics. “And your brother?”

Groove rolled his optics, “What?”

“Why is he so weird? He acts like he is afraid of little touching or a kiss.”

Groove laughed, “Probably because he hasn't had much practice with them. He gets skittish when anyone tries.”

“Awww! Did I steal his first kiss? Was that why he tasted so sweet? Wait! Does that mean he is a virgin?!”

“I am not a virgin!”

Mikaela laughed, “I think...you are. You protest a bit too much. It gives you away.” She smirked, “Weirdest dream ever. Robotic virgins.” She giggled again.

“Yeah, Blades just skitters away anytime a mech or femme are interested. Maybe one day he will....” Groove smirked, “Or maybe not. Guess he might be saving himself for his bonding sol. Is that it, Bladesey?” 

Blades sputtered, “Stop talking about me!”

“Wow, you are just the cutest thing when you are mad.” 

“Stop calling me cute, you glitched femme!”

“Then stop being so adorable. You are like a pouty toddler insisting that they are not sleepy when they are nodding off in front of you. So cute!”

“Knock it off! I am not cute! I am not adorable! I am a fast, skilled flier on a sought after gestalt team. Leave me alone!”

“But you are so fun to rile up! And so cute! And adorable! I could just pinch your cheeks! Wait, what is a ‘gestalt’?”

“We are,” First Aid said. “We can combine to make a larger mech. Our consciousness melds together. It’s rather complicated.”

Mikaela stared, “Sounds like it. So...can you...I don’t know...read each other’s minds when you do that? It doesn’t sound like much fun at all. I don’t think I would want anyone in my head, especially not a sibling.”

Groove laughed, “It does make things interesting.”

“Interesting, I bet. Have you....always been that way?” 

“No, not always,” First Aid said.

“Soooo… then why?” 

The mechs exchanged uneasy glances, and looked as though they did not want to explain that to her.

“It’s complicated,” Groove shrugged.

“So explain it. Make it less complicated.”

“That is easier said than done. The process itself is hard to explain.”

“Try!”

Groove sighed, “The simplest explanation is that we are in a war. During the course of the war we were selected to undergo the process that made us gestalt. It basically linked us to one another, physically and mentally.”

Wait- physically?

“So if you have sex, do they feel it too?”

“If they want us to. The bond can be closed. If they don’t want us to feel that then we don’t. But… with strong emotions there is a greater chance for bleedthrough.”

Mikaela tilted her head and considered it, “That is… wow. That could potentially suck a lot.”

Groove nodded, “Indeed it does. It is also a personal thing for our gestalt. “

She thought for a moment, “Okay. Why would that make him more ‘desirable’ then? Is it supposed to to be?”  
Groove laughed, “Gestalts are rare, and there have been a few odd mechs and femmes who try to interface with us just to say they had been with a gestalt member.”

“Wow! So you’re like rock stars!”

Groove gave her a blank look, and searched the lexicon that Smokescreen had provided. He rolled the word around in his processor. “I am not sure the word is entirely accurate. We are… rare, and rare things are desirable to some. Blades more than the rest of us, honestly. Rotaries are one of the rarer frame-types.”

Mikaela frowned, “So… pretty much… they don’t want you guys for yourself. Wow, that really does suck.” 

Groove nodded, “It’s a real bummer.” 

“Yeah, sounds like it,” Mikaela said looking thoughtful.

“So how much longer until we get to the cruise ship? I want to hit the casino! I bet I’ll win every time since this is my hallucination.”

“You still think you are hallucinating? I would have thought that you would have figured it out by now.”

“Figured what out?”

“That this is real. That you are not hallucinating. We are real mechs just like you are a real femme.”

Mikaela frowned. “I don’t want it to be real. That would mean… that would mean everything I love is gone.” 

“You may not want it to be, but it is,” Groove said solemnly.

Mikaela trembled, looking away. “I want things to go back to normal. I don’t want this.” 

Groove nodded, “I’m sorry then. I really am. I’m sorry this happened to you.” 

“Shut up. You are lying! This is a trick! This is just a stupid dream and I will wake up any moment!”

She grabbed her head and began to rock back and forth. “Wake up! Wake up! Come on Mikaela! Wake up! It’s just a dream!”

The robots exchanged nervous looks and the quiet robot next to her glared at Groove. ‘Groove! She was not ready for that! She is clearly in denial.’

First Aid put a hand on her spinal strut rubbing small circles across it and her little winglets until she finally calmed, her ventilation coming more slowly.

“It will be okay, Mikaela, just calm down. We will take care of you.” 

“No it won’t,” she said in a tiny voice, hugging herself tightly.

“It’ll be okay, you are going to be alright.”

“No, I won’t. They are gone. They are all gone! My family, my mom, my dad, my sisters and brother! My aunts and uncles, my cousins! All my friends! All my classmates! Everyone I know is DEAD! THAT IS NOT OKAY!”

Groove exchanged a look with First Aid over her helm before putting an arm around the femme. “You are right, it isn’t okay at all, but we will still help you get through this. I promise you that. We will get you to someone you can talk to about it. I know it won’t fix things, but talking helps.”

She vented, leaning into him, “Okay. If this isn’t a bad dream… I guess.” 

First Aid leaned into her, his field pushing against hers, giving as much comfort as he could.

She leaned against the robot and drifted to sleep.

When she woke up, most of the robots were gone. Only the one whom she was leaning on was still there, and he was gently shaking her. “Mikaela? Mikaea? We are here, we need to get off the shuttle now.”

She had never dreamed about having a dream inside a dream before which seemed to suggest that…..

No.

It was not true. She was dreaming and that was that.

OoOoOoOo

Copy trailed behind Megatron as the large mech stomped down the hall. He wrung his hands together. He did not like leaving the habitation suite, but it was not as if he was given a choice in the matter.

“Orion?” Megatron snapped, when he realized the mech was trailing farther and farther behind.

Copy’s shoulders slumped and he hurried ahead silently.

He did not want to anger his master. His master had returned a few joors ago in a rage, mumbling something about ‘no red ones’ and ‘noisy little beasts’ that had confused him. He did not question or impose on his Master when he was like this.

He was more likely to end up carelessly thrown into a wall or a piece of furniture when that happened. Master apologized when it happened and cuddled on the berth with him afterwards but he would rather avoid getting hurt at all.

Orion hurried up, putting a hand on Megatron’s arm. He couldn’t quite stop the fear that flared in his field. It made Megatron stop and look down at him, frowning. He was pulled close, the last thing he wanted. “I’m not angry with you Orion, it’s those predacons.”

His helm was patted awkwardly. If anything that was far more worrying than being hit.

He soon found himself sitting on his master’s lap, being petted. Master would pick up small energon treats and servo feed them to him. He would have taken them from his servo, and not with his servos. Master did not like when he tried.

Master did not like when he tried to do things for himself. Instead he was just supposed to lay about, reading his datapads and looking pretty for his master. He was polished every decacycle by his master who spent a joor making sure every part of him shined. He hated when he had to be polished again.

It was a boring life when it was not terrifying. The only upside was visits from Weld and Soundwave. The latter always brought him new datapads. Sometimes Weld brought him other treats. He looked forward to those visits as much as he came to dread visits to the infirmary. They always left master seething.

His master pulled him closer, hugging him to his chassis. “I am sorry, Orion. I could not get a pet for you. None of the hatchlings were red, and they were the noisiest little monsters. Perhaps I can find you something else.” 

He did not want a pet. All a pet would be was another way that Master could hurt him. He did not want another to suffer because of him. It would not be right at all. He wished he was able to get away from his master, but that seemed unlikely the longer he was with him.

After a long walk, they were standing outside a small lab. Copy did not recognize it. He usually only went to the med-bay when he was not in Master’s quarters. When they walked in, he saw Soundwave with an odd contraption on a table and a frightening one opticked mech next to him.

“Lord Megatron. We have completed your...unusual request. One drone as requested.”

Copy moved closer to Megatron, putting his Master between him and the scary one opticked mech. 

“Come, Orion, It is a present for you. There is no need to be shy,” Megatron said, pushing him towards the table. “It is a turbofox. They used to run wild on Cybertron. It is a much better companion than a predacon anyway. It will stay small.” 

Soundwave did something and the thing powered on, it’s optics glowing brightly. It looked onto Copy, and it let out a grinding yip.

“Pet it. It needs to imprint onto you,” the scary one opticked mech said.

Copy trembled, and reached out towards the thing. 

The thing on the table growled and Copy jerked away fearfully. He looked back at his master, and gingerly reached out to the ‘turbofox’ on the table. It continued to growl at him, baring sharp dente at him. He fearfully continued, when the thing lunged at him! It clamped down on his servo and bit deeply, drawing his energon!

He screamed and tried to pull his servo away but the thing would not let go.

His master leapt forward and smacked the thing off of him. “Orion! Are you alright?”

The turbo fox yelped, cowering.

Orion whimpered, hugging his injured hand to his chest. It hurt, badly. Mechblood welled up, dripping down his chassis.

He whimpered again, watching the turbofox wearily, afraid it would take another bite out of him.

He scooted back until his back hit the wall, but he did not remain there long. He soon found himself scooped up by Soundwave who tucked him against his chestplates and moved across the room. He set Copy on the small berth on the other side of the room and examined his wounded servo.

“Orion: wait. Repair: imminent.”

Copy nodded and held onto his wounded servo, streaks of optical lubricants running down his faceplates.

The mech pulled out a tube of nanite cream and a mesh bandage, wrapping up the wound.

Orion sniffed, wincing as Soundwave pulled the bandage tight and adhered it together.

“Orion: try again?”

The small mech trembled, looking to where Megatron watched expectantly. He didn’t want to go back near that thing again, but he knew that wasn’t an option. He nodded, and steeled himself as Soundwave sat him back on the floor.

“Orion: must not show fear. Drone: reacts negatively.” 

Copy trembled but stood on his peds and cautiously reached out the the creature. It had a large dent in one side where it had been smacked by Master and it whimpered a little. Copy felt sorry for it, even though it had bit him. It was most likely just scared is all.

He reached out and managed to give a little pat to the---what had it been called? The turbox received a gentle pet and then Copy looked at it’s wound in concern. The poor things leg was dented.

“Orion worry: unnecessary. Soundwave:repair drone.“

The drone inched closer to him, pushing it’s head beneath Orion’s hand. Orion petted it more firmly. He felt relieved that Soundwave would look after the drone. It made an odd whining noise, and Orion could not help but feel sorry for it.

“Soundwave, bring it to Orion once the drone is repaired.”

“Affirmative: Soundwave understands.” 

Megatron gave Soundwave a toothy smile. It made Orion uneasy.

“Excellent. Put a collar on it. One that matches Orion’s, so that others will know that it belongs to him.”  
“Soundwave: Understands.”

“Come along, Orion. Let’s have your servo repaired before we return to our quarters. I do not like seeing you so distressed. Dry your lubricants, you will be repaired shortly.”

Copy nodded, it seemed the safer option.

Megatron took his hand, leading him through the Nemesis to the medbay. Orion did not want to go. he knew more scans would follow, and his master would be disappointed once more that he was not carrying yet. He was not entirely sure which possibility was scarier. Megatron’s reaction or if he really was carrying a spark. He could not imagine carrying it to term, not with the way Megatron occasionally threw him around.

Imagining the mech with something small and fragile was worse.

He did not imagine it would last very long even if he did carry to term. Megatron was sure to lash out at a sparkling if it made noise when it was upset or even was around when he did not want it to be.

No, a sparkling would not last long at all.

As it was he feared that his new pet would not last long at all either. He would be sad to see the poor thing destroyed but with his Master, it was only a matter of time.

They walked into the medbay, as usual Knock Out ignored him and focused on his master. “My liege, what can I help you with today?” 

Megatron growled, and led Orion over to an empty medical berth. He lifted him onto it. “I need Orion’s hand seen to. He was bitten by his new pet.”

Knock Out raised a brow, “I see.” He took Orion’s hand, and unwrapped the mesh bandage, frowning. “New pet? It looks like a turbofox bite.” 

“It is,” Megatron snapped.

Copy flinched. He could tell Megatron was losing his patience with the medic. 

“Forgive my questions, Lord Megatron. I simply wished to know the cause of the injury so as to select the best repair option.”

“Get on with it, medic! Orion needs to return to our quarters. I do not like all these mechs looking at him. He is mine. All mine.”

“Of course, Lord Megatron. Would you like me to do or regular scans as well while I repair Orion.”

“Might as well,” Megatron said. “It will save us the trip here later this decacycle.”

Knock Out nodded, mending the wound. It hurt, but not nearly as much as the initial bite. There was nothing but a series of tiny welds one the medic was finished.

He was dreading the scan, and tensed up when the mech slid the jack into his medical port. His firewalls cascaded down as the scan begin. It did not hurt, but it felt...odd and invasive.

“Hmmm...” Knock Out looked through the results and scanned him a second time.

“Give me a moment, my lord. I wish to confirm my diagnosis before I announce it.”

“What is taking so long? Is something wrong with my Consort? Well, Knockout?”

“Nothing wrong, per se my Lord. Something is very right. Congratulations, my Lord. Your Consort is carrying.”

Copy froze at the words. He was carrying? A little part of him shrieked, ‘but I am not a girl’ before being overruled by the rest of his processor.

“You are sure?” Megatron asked, his optics intent. 

“Positive. Both scans showed the spark. The gestation chamber is in the first stages of frame construction. It will be a few decacycles before we can determine frame-type.”

Copy stared at the medic. He heard the words but he could not make any sense of them. This could not be happening. He could not even gauge the reaction of his Master. It felt as though his processor was mired in muck.

He was suddenly picked up and cradled to his master’s chest. “You are wonderful, my Orion.You are carrying my heir! What a wonderful gift you have given me!”

Copy tried to smile but the information was still too shocking for him. He was carrying. He was going to have a baby. He was going to have a little one to care for.

“Is this not a great sol, my Orion?”

He nodded. He knew that his master was happy and that he was expected to be happy too. But...he could not bring himself to be happy. He was terrified for the little life growing inside of him.

Megatron pet his plating, his field flared out, licking against Copy’s aggressively. “This is the best news,” Megatron purred. “I cannot wait to see our little one.” 

Copy could have cried. He could not stand for another piece of himself to be destroyed by this mech. He had already lost so much.

He didn’t know if he could do this. He wanted to run away, knowing that no child would last long around the aggressive warlord who seemed to have a fragile trigger. Little things would set him off at the oddest times.

Copy had once been thrown across the room for ‘reading too loudly’.

And he was expected to be happy to be bringing a sparkling into this?

His master seemed so happy. It broke Copy’s spark. He did not understand how the mech could be like this. How he could be so overjoyed, and expect Copy to be as well? 

Megatron laughed, “The very best news I have heard in a vorn, I think.” 

Copy nodded, not knowing what else he was expected to do. Everything in him told him to run, as fast and far away as he could.

His Master, however, would look for him. He knew that his Master would never let him go. He would have to hope that, perhaps, Soundwave would know of a way to keep the sparkling safe from Master’s rages.

He would not mind being hit as long as his sparkling was kept safe. It was so small after all, and could not protect itself.

OoOoOoOo

Wheeljack slipped through the Nemesis to Ratchet’s cell. “Hey, doc, any news for me?” 

“Actually, I do. You need to sit tight, back up is coming,” Ratchet whispered looking about in a paranoid manner. “I saw Steeljaw the other sol.” 

Wheeljack froze, “What?” 

“There are Autobots in system. They came in response to the message that was sent out. Steeljaw says that they are going to try to get us out of here.”

“That is great! How are the kids?”

Ratchet looked away. “About that. Miko’s eggs hatched.”

“Already?” 

“Yes, they are healthy, thank Primus, but they will be difficult to get out of here. Predaking...is....rather attached to Miko. More so than I had thought before.” 

Wheeljack scowled, “I’m sure she will forget about him easy enough once we get her away.”

“I----I’m not so sure about that.” 

“Well, if he doesn’t, then I’ll help him take the hint. Miko ain’t gonna be some fraggin’ predacon’s mate. I’ll make sure she finds a nice mech or femme to bond with. Someone who can take care of themselves.”

“I know you would, I am just saying don’t expect him to go away without a fight. He seems to have fixated on her, and I fear…”

“Fear what doc?”

“I think Predacons may mate for life.”

Wheeljack scowled, “Are you saying they are sparkbonded?”

“I don’t know, but it wouldn't surprise me if they were.”

“I’m not having any of that. Bulkhead would have been devastated.” 

Ratchet looked away, “Yeah, I suppose he would be.” 

“So, we have to get Miko away from that sick beast.”

‘What about the hatchlings? She is the one who is making sparkling grade energon for them right now.”

Wheeljack frown, “Guess we’ll just have to take them with us too.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ratchet said. In his processor he was thinking that he would like to see Wheeljack TRY to take her away from the fledglings. he couldn't imagine that would THAT going well at all. “Anyway, just be careful. They should be coming for us soon.” 

“I will let Ultra Magnus know. He will be happy to know we have reinforcements.”

“Good. I am going to go teach Raf later and I will let you know what I found out.”

“Appreciate it Doc. Try to think of a way to get Miko and her...bitlets out of here.”

Ratchet pursed his lip-plates. “I will try.”

“Do more than try, Doc,” Wheeljack snapped. “I’m not leaving her behind. Bulkhead was counting on me to protect her.” 

“I know,” Ratchet vented. “You should get back before you are missed.” 

Wheeljack gave him a sour look, “Sure, doc.”

“You are the only one who can get around the ship easily, Wheeljack. We cannot risk you getting caught when we are so close. We are going to need your help to get the kids out safely.”

Wheeljack nodded even though he did not look too happy. “I got it. We are getting all of them out of here. Those poor kids have suffered enough under these monsters.”

“I know Wheeljack. I know.”

Wheeljack nodded, looking relieved. “It won’t be soon enough,” he said, and turned to leave. Magnus would be cheered with this news at least. He worried for the mech. He was not taking their captivity well. Not at all. “Be seein’ ya, doc.” He waved as he slipped out of the room. 

Magnus was where he had left him, leaned against the cell bars and dozing.

As soon as Wheeljack returned though, Magnus onlined his optics. “Well, soldier? What did you learn?”

“We may be getting some assistance in getting out of here. Ratchet made contact with some friends from outside. A rescue attempt may be in the works.”

“That is welcome news. What of the children, are they alright?”

“No word on Jack or Raf. Miko….Miko’s eggs hatched. They are all doing well from what Ratchet said.”

“More Predacons. Just what we needed.”

Wheeljack shrugged, “They are just as much hers as his.” 

Ultra snorted and shrugged, “We’ll see.” 

“Ratchet seemed to think she was really attached the them...and him too.” Wheeljack scowled, “I can't say I’m too happy with this news either. It’s going to be hard to get them all out in one piece.”

“Did he give you any more information...about the rescue attempt?” 

“Not really. Probably the less we know the better.”

OoOoOoOo

Streetwise waited until his brothers were in recharge before he slipped out. He had commed Smokescreen earlier, and hoped that he was still coming to meet him. He worried that Prowl would stop Smokescreen from leaving. The mech was putting a real crimp into their plans. 

He could understand being protective of his younger brother, but Prowl was over-protective to say the least. Even Prowl’s bonded had looked displeased with Prowl over how he was acting toward him.

Streetwise sighed. He would have done anything to protect Smokescreen from the trap. He had had no idea it was there though! Jazz understood that! Smokescreen even had forgiven him and understood that he had had no way of knowing.

“Streetwise?” Smokescreen stepped out of the darkened hall and rushed over to the other Praxian, throwing his arms around him. “I wasn’t sure if you would make it out.” 

Before Streetwise could answer Smokescreen was pressing their lip-plates together, his glossa slipping against Streetwise’s in a teasing manner. His plating hot, and his field was persistent.

Streetwise could not complain. He had wanted this for sols.

He twined his glossa around Smokescreen’s, savoring the sweet flavor that was unique to him. He had never tasted a mech as sweet as Smokescreen was. He slipped a servo towards Smokescreen’s back and rubbed at the spot between his doorwings.

Smokescreen moaned and arched back into the touch. Streetwise revved at how wanton the younger mech looked. He continued to work the bundle of wires between Smokescreen’s doors and listened as he panted and pressed against him. “You look so beautiful like this, my sweet Smokey.”

Smokescreen moaned, his optics were unfocused when he looked up at Streetwise. “I want you.” 

Streetwise leaned his helm against the smaller mech’s. “I want you too.” He had never felt this way about anymech before it was a rush.

“You said---you said you knew where there was an unoccupied room?” 

Streetwise nodded, not sure if that was wise. Prowl would kill him if he took Smokescreen’s seals before they were bonded. “I’m not sure---”

“Please. We can just snuggle.” He leaned up, pressing their lip-plates back together. “Please.” 

“Believe me, Smokey. I would love to snuggle with you. It just is not a good idea. You are far too much of a temptation and I do not trust myself with you in such a situation. You are so sweet and wonderful and perfect. And your brother would quite literally have me torn apart and fed to sharkticons if I took your seals before we were bonded.”

Smokescreen whined and pressed against him. “Please?”

“You are a temptation, my dear. A wonderful, but deadly temptation. Why don’t we go sit in a rec room and snuggle on a couch. Where we will have witnesses.”

Smokescreen huffed, it was not what he wanted, but Streetwise did have a point. Prowl would be enraged, and he did not want Streetwise to come to harm because of him. “I guess I will take what I can get. Don’t blame me for wanting more.” 

“I don’t. I want the same thing. We will just have to be patient and wait. It will be worth it, brightspark. I promise.” 

“I will hold you to that,” Smokescreen said in a disgruntled manner.

“Oh, do not worry, my sweet Smokey. You will not be disappointed, though I may have to carry you everywhere for a sol or two.”

Smokescreen blushed beautifully as Streetwise lead him towards one of the rec rooms. Inside there were a few members of the crew along with three of the former humans. They were being taught how to play one of the holo games by Sideswipe and Hot Rod. Well two of them were. The third was talking with some of the Dinobots.

Or, more specifically it sounded like Grimlock was hitting on the little mech. Streetwise’s optics widened, and he wondered if he should intervene. The little mech could not possibly know what he was getting into. It was Spike. The mech had proved to be even odder once they had gotten him on ship, but luckily he had not flashed anyone else. To Streetwise’s knowledge anyway. All of the human-turned-bots were fitting in surprisingly well from what he heard.

“Me Grimlock, spike Spike good,” he heard over the talking of the other mechs. He exchanged a glance with a mortified looking Smokescreen.

“I think I’m hearing things.” 

“Nooo...I heard it too,” Streetwise said wincing.

“Should we intervene? I mean, he is new to being a mech after all. He may not know what he is getting into with Grimlock.”

Streetwise looked over and saw Skids going over to Spike. “I think that Skids has got a grip on the situation. Why don’t we take over the couch and watch a film?”

“Something romantic, okay?”

“Of course.”

“How do you feel about _Sparksentwined_?” Streetwise said.

Smokescreen flushed, “Prowl would never let me watch it. He said it was...not appropriate.” 

Streetwise laughed, “Is that a yes, then?”

“I’d love to see it,” Smokescreen said nearly hopping where he stood. The sight made Streetwise smile. Sometimes the mech was as excitable as a bumblepuppy.

He knew why Prowl had disapproved of Smokescreen watching it. It had some scandalous scenes in it, several of which had mechs in protoform- one even showed interfacing.

It would at least keep Smokescreen entertained while they cuddled and if the human-mechs stayed, it would give them a general idea of what to expect. Except for Spike, who was pretty close to Grimlock now.

That would be an interesting pairing to say the least. Grimlock was so much bigger than Spike though. Primus he hoped the kid picked a different name. That was a terrible name for a mech to have. 

He cued up the file on the vidscreen, and took his place next to Smokescreen on the couch. The smaller mech curled against him, clearly pleased to be there. He purred quietly, his attention focusing on the vid.

“This is so exciting. Prowl would never have let me watched this,” Smokescreen said, none of the excitement leaving him. “I think Jazz would though. He’s so very unlike my brother.”

Streetwise laughed, “Biggest understatement of the vorn.” 

Smokescreen cuddled against him, “I don’t know how the two of them got together. They are so different from each other!”

Streetwise put an arm around Smokescreen, “They are different and that is what makes them work. Prowl is stability for Jazz’ wild nature, and Jazz provides the emotional stability that Prowl needs. That is why Jazz can calm Prowl down when he gets all irrational and angry.”

Streetwise cuddled closer, “You are right, I suppose. It was nice to have a break when Jazz got Prowl to leave us alone.”

“It was,” Smokescreen agreed, and let his head rest against Streetwise’s shoulder. “This is nice.”

“Mmmm...it is.” Or it would have been had Grimlock’s voice not been getting louder and louder as he tried to persuade Spike to leave with him. Streetwise vented inside, some mechs were impossible.

“Spike come with me Grimlock. Show Spike what real spike is.”

Streetwise looked down at Smokescreen and both began to laugh. Had the large mech really said that? To judge by the look on Skid’s faceplates, they had heard correctly.

Smokescreen gasped and Streetwise turned to see what had gotten his attention and he chuckled at the sight on the screen. One of the naughtier scenes was starting, and a mech was removing their armor.

Smokescreen’s optics widened, “Oh, Primus.” 

Streetwise chuckled, “It gets better, I promise.”

“I don’t see how it could, wow.” 

Streetwise nuzzled Smokescreen’s helm, nipping at his chevron. “Trust me, Smokey.”

Grimlock went trailing by, Spike thrown over his shoulder, giggling. It was the strangest sight. Skids huffed, stopping at the doorway, and shook his helm. Streetwise tried not to be distracted by the sight, but it was the oddest thing he had seen in a while.

If Grimlock was serious about wanting to interface with the smaller mech, then the little mech would have trouble walking the next sol. If he could walk at all. First Aid would have a large job to repair the damage to his valve.

Smokescreen giggled and whispered, “Poor Spike. He will not be able to walk by tomorrow. Should you warn your brother? I think he will want to reformat to a dinobot before too long.”

Streetwise laughed, “Just what we need, another Dinobot.”

“True,” Smokescreen giggled, “But it would be better than your brother having to fix the little bots valve every other sol.” 

Streetwise laughed, “Point taken, I will talk to him. He might casually suggest it to Spike.”

Smokescreen nodded, his attention going back to the vid, “This is really good, but I can see why they didn’t want me to see it.” 

One screen two mechs in protoform were kissing one another and grinding against each other. It was really hot and made him feel hot under his panel- especially when he imagined that the mech with doorwings was Smokescreen.

He bet that Smokey would look even better though, and he would be all his.

Smokescreen was running warmer than usual already and he thought it was adorable. He could see Smokey flushing but still staring at the screen as though hypnotized.

One of his hands strayed to Smokescreen’s doorwing. He pinched the edges and was not surprised at the little revv Smokescreen gave, or how his squirmed in his seat. The smaller mech gave a little whine. “I...wow...” 

“Like the vid so far.”

Smokescreen nodded, his cheekplates growing a bright red.

“Yah know if Prowler saw tha two of ya like that, he ain’t gonna be happy right?”

Streetwise jumped and moved away from Smokescreen. “Jazz! Um, Hi! He-he isn’t with you is he?”

“Nah, he is still at work. So yah two still have some cuddlin’ time. Just not gropin’ where yah better, Street. Smokey is still Prowler’s bitty brother. He ain’t gonna lose his innocence in the rec room.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” Streetwise said.

“I know ya wouldn’t, but my dearest love is an untrustin’ slagger where Smokey is concerned,” Jazz said, taking a seat in a plush chair closest to the couch.

“I’ve noticed,” Streetwise murmured.

“I don’t see why this is necessary,” Smokescreen huffed, “We are in public. It’s not like he’s Grimlock and gonna throw me over his shoulder and ravish me on the card table.”

Jazz snorted. “We’ll see.”

“Speaking of seeing, did you happen to pass Grimlock on your way in?”

“Yah mean, did ah see him with that new mech o’er his shoulder stompin’ towards his quarters? Yah, ah did.”

Streetwise laughed, “Yeah, so did we. You should have heard some of the lines that old Grim was using on the new mech. It was hilarious.”

“Nah, what was hilarious was bein’ in the shootin’ range earlier. That Lennox mech agreed ta let ol’ Hide take him out. Hide was layin’ it on thick too!”

“I’m sure he was,” Streetwise said, “He’s been making googly optics at Lennox for sols. Poor mech isn’t gonna know what hit him when Chromia makes her move.”

Jazz snickered, “I think everymech’s noticed but Lennox. And Hide...frag he’s not gotten any smoother. Makes yah wonder how he ever got Chromia.”

“From what I heard she was the one that courted him,” Streetwise said, noting how Smokescreen hung on their words while pretending to still watch the movie.

“Ah did not know that. Figures. Femmes are always outspoken. That one has Percy all up in knots. He’s been following her around like a lost turbohound. Ah swear.” 

“Oh, the mouthy one? Who thought we were out to get her? What is she doing to Percy?”

Jazz laughed, “Yeh, that’s tha one. She’s got Percy chasin’ his tail. Not sure if he’s comin’ or goin’ some sols. Pesterin’ him, ah even saw her fondln’ his scope!”

Streetwise blinked at him. He could not imagine ‘prim and proper’ Percy letting anyone do that. “Really? You sure about that?”

Jazz nodded, “Yeah, ahm positive. Blaster saw it in the mess hall. Said Percy’s cheekplates turned as red as his armour.”

“This is turning into a madhouse.”

Jazz shrugged, “Can’t say ahm surprised. Not like the crew has come across any new bots in a long, long time.” 

“How...how is Prime?” Smokescreen piped up. “I...ah hadn’t heard from them in a long time.”

“He’s good. Askin’ about yah too. Seems tah think yah might be...upset after havin’ ta be on yer own.”

“I’m….fine. I’m glad he is okay.” Smokescreen turned to look at the screen and he froze in shock, cheekplates going as red as Perceptor’s plating. Streetwise looked to see what the problem was and chuckled.

The film was at the point where the two leads finally interfaced, and it was shown. The smaller mech was moaning as his partner slowly fragged him, clutching at his shoulders.

Smokescreen’s cooling fans kicked on loudly, and he leaned in, staring.

Jazz snickered, “Stare any harder and yer optics are gonna fall out, Smokey.” 

Smokescreen blinked at him, and then looked back at the screen. “This is why Prowl wouldn't let me watch this.”

“Pretty much. He’s old fashioned that way. Can’t say ah blame him. Ah wouldn't want baby Blue tah watch this either.”

Smokescreen shook his helm, looking dazed.

Streetwise chuckled, “True but Blue is a sparkling. Smokescreen is a grown mech. I think your mate just doesn’t want to face the fact of how long Smokescreen was away from him. I think he feels guilty about leaving him for long and that is why he is so protective of Smokescreen when he has already arranged a bond for Blue.”

Jazz went very, very still, and slowly turned his helm towards Streetwise. “What?”

Streetwise did not like the look he was being given. “I, ah was talking to Thundercracker. He said Prowl had accepted his offer of an arranged bonding between him and little Blue.”

Jazz growled, a sound that Streetwise has never heard leave the mech’s mouth. It was loud and menacing. Smokescreen turned, optics wide as Jazz’s visor flashed a murderous shade of red. “Ah am gonna kill him,” he roared, rising from his chair and stomping across the room before Streetwise could stop him.

“Oh, frag. We have to go after him,” Streetwise said hopping up and pulling Smokescreen along with him. “Frag, I didn’t know he didn’t know.”

“I didn't even know that Prowl had done that! How could Prowl?! He knows that Jazz is not big on arranged bondings! And to do it without even consulting him?! He is going be killed if we don’t hurry!”

They took off running, Streetwise tried to comm Prowl but nothing came through.

::Spot! SPOT! ALL SERVOS ON DECK! Jazz is trying to kill Prowl!::

::What!?! Why!?!::

::Can’t explain now, just get over to their rooms. NOW!::

He cut the comm link and pulled Smokey through the hall, running as fast as they could. The door to Prowl and Jazz’s rooms was closed. Smokey pounded on it for a moment before remembering that he knew the code.

“Ah can’t believe you would do this, Prowler. I am sorely disappointed in you,” Jazz snarled, crouching on the other side of Prowl’s desk. The other mech circled around it making sure to keep that bit of furniture between him and his enraged mate.

“Why would I consult you? It was a reasonable and logical decision. I saw no reason that you would object.”

“No reason? Reasonable? Logical? Prowl! Yah sold my bitty without even talkin’ ta me!”

Streetwise put Smokescreen behind him, “Go get Blue and head to the medbay. I’ll try to keep them from killing each other.”

Smokescreen skirted his brother and Jazz, slipping into Blue’s room, the bitlet had clearly just awoken, but he was already whimpering as he felt the emotional backlash from his creators.

“Comon’ bitlet, I’m gonna take you to the medbay before they tear the place apart.” He carried Bluestreak out of the room, past Jazz and Prowl who were screaming at each other at this point. Bluestreak started crying, bawling as if his best friend and his turbopuppy had both died.

Streetwise watched the two rush past and out of the quarters. Good. They were both safe and out of the way. Prowl was still managing to keep Jazz at bay, circling around the desk. Every step they made was announced with the crunch of datapads under peds.

This was not going to end well. 

“Prowl? Jazz? I know you are both upset. Why don’t we all calm down, and discuss this like reasonable mechs?”

Jazz turned his gaze on Streetwise, “Ah would recommend you stay out of this. It’s between me an Prowler here.” 

He growled, and lunged at Prowl, missing him by a hairs breadth.

“He’s right you need to calm down Jazz. It is not as if Blue will be bonded next sol. The contract is well written, do you really think I would just hand him over to some other mech? Thundercracker is---”

“That is beside the point.”

“Then what is your point? You come in here, knock my work off of my desk. What is it?”

“You don’t get it?! YOU SOLD OUR SPARKLING! You never even asked me! You didn't even **tell** me! I had to find out from someone else that you gave away our sparkling!”

“You are hysterical. I have commed First Aid to come and exam you. He will treat you for whatever glitch you have suffered.”

“The only **glitch** I am suffering from is you! I never should have bonded with you!”

Prowl bristled, doorwings flaring up in anger, “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you dare. If we had never bonded there would be no Bluestreak, or the bitlet you are carrying now. Don’t you dare tell me you regret that,” he snapped.

“You are horrible.”

“You are stressing yourself and our bitlets out. Calm down.” 

Jazz shook, “How could you do this? You know I wouldn’t agree.” 

“I knew you would see the logic when it was explained both for Blue’s bonding as well as the one I will arrange when you deliver our newest creation.”

Jazz snarled and took a step back. “I will rip this bitlet off my spark before I let you sell it!”

Prowl looked taken aback. “I have commed the med bay and security. They will be here soon to help prevent you from harming yourself or our sparkling.”

“I won’t let you do this, I won’t let you,” he screamed, and started ripping at his own plating. “I’d rather it die then let you sell it into slavery.” 

Prowl looked stunned for one moment, before he jumped over the desk, grabbing ahold of Jazz’s hands and pinning them above his helm.

“I won’t let you do it. I’ll---”

“No, I won’t let you. Jazz, stop it. It’s not slavery. How can you even think that?” Streetwise had never seen anyone look that devastated before.

Prowl managed to hold him until First Aid and the rest of his brother’s came barreling in.

Hot Spot and Blades rushed to pin Jazz down while First Aid began to scan Jazz and the sparkling franticly. “What happened? How did he get hurt?!”

Streetwise blinked, “They were arguing. Jazz, he just started ripping into himself like a mad mech. Said, said he would not allow Prowl to ‘sell this one too.”

“Sell their sparkling? What was he talking about? Prowl would never-”

“Prowl accepted an arranged bonding agreement for Blue. Without asking Jazz.”

“Oh, slag!”

Prowl glared, “It isn’t selling them. There was no money exchanged. If they feel strongly against it it would be dissolved like Smokescreen’s was. It is tradition.”

Jazz howl, struggling anew. “I won’t let you do that to my bitty.” 

“It is our bitty, Jazz, and I am not going to allow you to hurt yourself or the bitlet. I won’t.” 

“Oh, so now it is **our** bitty! It was apparently your bitty when you went and decided to sell him! Who! Who are you going to sell this one to? I will rip both of our sparks out before I let you do that!”

First Aid quickly jabbed something against the energon line in Jazz’s throat and the carrying mech went limp. “Let’s get them to the med-bay. Prowl! You are coming to! That is an order from the Chief Medical Officer of this ship!”

Prowl picked up his limp mate, “I don’t see how that is lo---”

“I don’t fragging care what you think,” First Aid’s optics narrowed. “You are acting as off as your mate is. You will come willingly, or we will take you there by force. Your choice.” 

“Fine then, lead the way,” Prowl said, holding Jazz close. He seemed oblivious to the mechblood smearing his chassis.

The made their way to the medbay, and First Aid began to work on Jazz, sealing up the wounds the mech had inflicted on himself, he put him on a drip and restrained the mech’s hands. 

Streetwise watched to make sure that Jazz was in good servos and then hurried ahead to the medbay. He saw Smokescreen holding Blue and looking anxious about what was going on. Blue clung to him and was sobbing, tears rolling down his faceplates. Poor sparkling!

“Smokey, you and Blue need to go into one of the private rooms, right now.”

“Street? Why? What happened? Are they-?”

“They are being brought here by my brothers. I don’t think Blue should see. Take him into one of the rooms and see if you can get him to sleep.”

Smokescreen held Bluestreak closer, rocking the little mech. “W-what happened?”

“Smokey… please. I will tell you later. Please just go.”

Smokescreen finally nodded and moved towards the private rooms. Bluestreak was still sobbing as Streetwise watched him close the door.

He vented, relieved that Smokescreen would not be there to witness this. There was clearly something wrong with Prowl as much as there was with Jazz. They were both… off. 

He had never seen anything like when Jazz had begun to claw at his own plating as though to rip the sparkling right out of his chest. It had been horrifying!

He had had no idea what he was supposed to do in that situation. It had all happened so fast! He had had so little time to react, and it was a miracle of Primus that Prowl had acted when he did to keep Jazz from offlining their sparkling or himself.

He had never seen Jazz that mad.

It was all his fault. If he had not told Jazz about the arranged bonding, this would never have happened.

When he finally got back to the medbay it was in time to hear First Aid dressing Prowl down. He had never heard his brother quite so angry.

“Aid, this is my fault. I didn’t realize---”

“No, it’s really not. It is Prowl’s fault. Despite my warning him not to do so he has shut down his emotional protocols yet again. Look what you have done, Prowl. We’ve talked about this ad nauseum. I won’t stand for it.”

“Wait- he did what now?”

FIrst Aid pushed Prowl to sit on a med berth and pulled a tray of tools to the side of the berth. “Our idiotic Commander decided to shut down his protocols for his emotional center. All his emotions were being erased. Or at least most of them are. See, since he is bonded some of his emotions were transferred to his bonded, Jazz. Which made Jazz become more emotional.”

“So that is why they were both acting so oddly!”

“Exactly. Idiot.”

Prowl flinched, “I didn’t---”

“Be quiet,” First Aid said jacking in none too gently. There was a visible change to the mech’s demeanor when his protocols were switched back on. He flinched again. “You will not turn them off. It is not healthy and it is not fair to Jazz or your bitlets. Do I make myself clear?” 

Prowl nodded, optics wide and worried. “Crystal clear.”

“Now...you will talk to Jazz, and you will apologize once we have booted him back up, and **HOPEFULLY** he might forgive you.” 

Prowl looked at Jazz horrified, “What have I done?”

“You fragged your bonded off, and may have made him self-destructive while he is carrying. aren’t you proud?”

Prowl looked at First Aid, devastated, “I never wanted this! Oh, Primus! Blue! Where is he?!”

Streetwise moved forward then, “I had Smokescreen get Blue out of your quarters before Jazz hurt himself. They are in private room five right now. He was going to try and get Blue to go back to recharge.”

Prowl shook, “T-thank you. Wh-what will happen to Jazz.” 

“I don’t know yet,” First Aid said, “Carrying mechs are fragile. Emotionally fragile. I am not entirely sure how we are going to fix this, Prowl. I’m not sure it would be safe to even take him out of stasis. He could try to offline the sparkling again, or even hurt Bluestreak. I warned you. I warned you again and again, but you did not listen.” 

Prowl nodded, “You did. I---I have destroyed things. My bonded. What have I done?” 

“You have done things poorly, but they can be repaired. Hopefully. You are going to have a lot of work to do to make it up to Jazz though. He was very hurt by your actions, and I do not mean simply physically. You hurt him by not consulting him about arranging a bonding for Blue or considering one for the sparkling in his chest. You will have some serious grovelling to do to get out of this, Prowl.”

Prowl ducked his head, “I do. I don’t deserve him.” He shivered, and seemed to shrink in on himself. “He hates me. I deserve to be hated.”

First Aid growled, his and striking out and slapping Prowl across the cheekplates. “Do not do that. You will be a mech and fix his.” 

Prowl looked up at him with shocked optics.

“I can’t! I am a monster! Look at what I have done to my family and yours! I tried to force your brother away from mine! I nearly killed my mate and our sparkling. I gave Bluestreak away without ever thinking about what he might want later in life. I am a hideous monster!”

“Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself! This is why you are not supposed to delete your emotions. You stop being able to handle them and get all maudlin!”

Streetwise shook his helm, this was a disaster.

Prowl vented loudly, and squared his shoulder, “Fine, I will grovel. I will beg. I---I will make this right.” 

First aid grunted, “You’d better. I suppose this means you will stop giving Street a rough time of it?”

Prowl nodded, “I will.” 

“Good to hear it. Now, come with me. We will talk to Jazz.” 

Jazz however was still under sedation while Hoist was repairing his frame. The clawed plating and shredded wires looked worse than before. Jazz always seemed so tiny when he was still and unmoving like this. It was eerie.

Prowl gave a little keen and held a trembling servo over the damaged area. “What have I done?”

“This is exactly why it would be best for you not to turn off your protocols. Most mechs cannot and there is reason for it. It might be best if the ability to turn them off was negated. I know you do not want to hear it...but...”

“It would be for the best,” Prowl whimpered, he could not look away. “Is...is the bitlet still...” 

“It is fine. You pinned him before he could do anything irreversible.”

“Nearly done,” Hoist said, “Most of the repairs left are cosmetic. I already sealed the major leaks.” 

“Thank you Hoist. You saved my family. I can never thank you enough for this.”

“I am just doing my duty, Prowl. I am sorry that this happened to you and Jazz. The sparkling is fine and healthy. You should be proud.”

“I am. I am so proud of them and of Blue. I have been a terrible sire. All I have done is bring them misery. I..I should break our bond. Then, Jazz will be free of me and I won't be able to hurt him anymore.”

Hoist looked at him with wide optics, “Sir, I would not advise that. It is a rare thing for mechs to survive a broken bond. Doing so intentionally...it is suicide.”

“Maybe that would be best.” 

First Aid growled behind him, “Prowl. We spoke of this. You will do the right thing. Hoist, please bring Jazz out of Stasis.”

Hoist nodded, stopping the drip, and injecting Jazz with some other medicine.

Prowl took a step back but First Aid did not let him go back any further. “Oh, no Prowl. You are going to face the mess you made and deal with it. I am not letting you and Jazz have this fester and then spread through the crew!”

Jazz shifted on the med-berth before slowly rebooting. His visor switched on a pale blue and it turned to Prowl as though drawn to it. “Prowler? What...what happened?”

Prowl’s doorwings quivered in distress. “I messed up, sweetspark. I fragged everything up, I’m so sorry. I---I was just having so hard of a time dealing with everything, and I---I turned off my emotional protocols again. AndfragImessed up.”

Jazz stared at him in confusion, and tried to piece together what happened. He tried to move his hands, and frowned when he realized he could not. “Prowl, what did I do?” 

“It is my fault. Please Jazz, forgive me. I turned off my emotional center when Prime and his crew came on board. I ended up sending all my emotions to you and getting you more emotional.”

“Oh, Prowler. Yah know that ain’ good fer yah!”

“I did something and you got rightfully mad at me. Then you said that I wouldn’t be able to do it again and tried….tried to offline the sparkling.”

Jazz stared at him in horror. “Did..did I..?”

Prowl shook his helm, “No. Hoist said it was well. You hurt yourself though.” Prowl’s hands hovered close, but didn’t touch. “I’m...so sorry. If---if I could free you of me I would. I’m a monster.” 

“Never say that! I would never want to lose you, Prowler. Whatever you did, as long as it can be repaired or undone then we can take care of it together. I love you Prowler, and I know that you love me. So lay it on me, what did you do?”

“I love you, too Jazz.” Prowl looked away ashamed, “I made a decision about Bluestreak without consulting you.”

Jazz frowned, “I think we need to agree that any major decisions about our sparklings need to be made together.”

Prowl nodded, looking distraught. “Yes, I think we should. I---I’m so sorry.” 

“What was this decision?” 

Prowl trembled, “I---I agree to a bonding when he is older. It...it is not something that he has to go through not if he finds the other mech disagreeable.” 

“Oh, Prowler, how could you? Yah know how I feel about that kinda thing!”

Prowl’s wings drooped, “I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea. It’s a---a good match.”

“Dare ah ask who the mech was?”

Prowl looked nervous again, “Thundercracker.”

Jazz stared at Prowl. “Ah heard yah wrong, right? Yah did not just say that yah engaged our bitty to a grown mech?”

“I did. I will inform Thundercracker that the engagement was called off. I am sorry, darling.”

Jazz shook his helm, “Ah think that might be for the best.” 

Prowl nodded, “I can...only hope that he agrees. We need his troops.” 

Jazz vented hard, “Yah know ah can’t stand this kinda political maneouvering. Not where mah bitty is concerned.” 

“I’m sorry. I---I will talk to him.” 

Jazz huffed, “Ah don’t know how you can even think this was a good idea. Yah hated the mech yer creators tried to bond yah to.”

“I know. I am sorry. It all made sense when I didn’t have my emotions in the way. Now, it makes no sense at all.”

Seeing that Prowl and Jazz seemed to be doing alright, Streetwise headed over to the private room and knocked lightly before poking his helm in. Smokescreen lay on the berth with Bluestreak cuddled up against him in recharge. Smokescreen was gently petting between the resting sparkling’s doorwings. “What happened?”

“Jazz reacted worse than we thought. He tried to offline himself and the bitlet.”

Smokescreen frowned, “He turned off his emotional protocols...didn’t he? I should have known, I remember him doing that after our creators died. He just couldn’t handle it, but really it made things worse. At least for me.” 

Streetwise nodded, moving close enough to touch Smokescreen, “I’m sure it did.” 

“He still had them off when he dumped me with Alpha Trion at the archives. He said it was ‘more logical’ for me to be at the archives than with him. He never even asked me what I wanted. He just told me to pack up my things and be ready to go in a joor.”

Streetwise felt so sad for Smokescreen. No sparkling should be made to feel as though they did not matter. It was a tragedy. “I am sorry, sweetspark.”

Smokescreen looked down at Bluestreak, “Yeah, well...it’s over and done. I just don’t want Blue to go through that.”

“I don’t either,” Streetwise said, “He’s a good spark and doesn’t deserve that.” 

Smokescreen nodded, offlining his optics. “I hope our sparks never have to deal with this.”

“Do not worry. Nothing like that would ever happen to our sparklings. My brothers would take them in, or your brother and Jazz would. Any sparklings of ours would always be taken care of.”

Smokescreen looked down Bluestreak, “I hope our sparklings are as sweet as Blue here is. He is a little angel.”

Streetwise’s lip-plates curled up, “He is. I think I would like that. Once things calm down. I’ve always wanted a family.” 

Smokescreen gave him a shy smile, “Me too. Never thought I would get the chance though. Not with how crazy things have been.” 

“Yes. I know that feeling, but I think...I think we will end this war soon.”

OoOoOoOo

Copy sighed and shifted on the berth. He was so very confused. He was carrying but part of him was in shock on how that could be. Another part of him wanted to get rid of the sparking he was carrying, it was not wanted!

His Master was pleased though.

Copy knew that a fragile sparkling would not last long around his master. He had to find a way to either save the sparkling or get rid of it. He trembled to think of Megatron’s reaction, but that would happen regardless.

He felt sorry for the life growing inside of him. It had no chance at all. It was a pity and a waste. He curled up on himself, offlining his optics. He needed to figure out what he was going to do, and soon. He wondered if Weld could help him, but he was hesitant to ask, not wanting to get the smaller mech in trouble.

He remembered how bad the smaller mech had looked before Soundwave had taken him in. Weld had been a wreck and half starved. It had been terrible to see and worse not be able to do anything about it.

The sparkling would be in the same situation. He would see it suffer and be unable to prevent it. The thought made his tank churn. He didn’t want to bring another life into this world for it only to suffer.

Unfortunately...Megatron kept an even closer optic on him now. It was as if he expected Copy to do something, or he thought that one of the bots on the ship would. If only.

He was afraid there was no escape. That turned his processor to other options. The thought of death scared him though.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do. He wanted to let the unborn sparkling have a life, but what kind of life would have with Megatron as a creator. Megatron was violent, angry and aggressive. He would have no idea how take care of a fragile sparkling.

Which would ultimately mean that the sparkling would most likely be killed by its sire in a moment of rage or irritation. Copy knew he would try his very hardest to protect his sparkling but he was not very strong and very weak.

“Orion? Come, I want you with me today,” Megatron rumbled as he came into the room. His red optics settled on Copy, narrowing as he looked at the mech. “You need to see the Knock Out today, he said he needed to scan the sparkling.” 

Copy sat up, looking up at the mech that towered over him and his tank rolled. He just wanted to escape.

Megatron did not wait long, He picked Copy up and moved towards the doorway.

Copy let himself go limp and allowed Megatron to carry him through the hallways towards the medbay. As soon as they were inside, Megatron set Copy onto a medberth. “Knock Out, scan Orion. Tell me how my sparkling is doing.”

Knock Out came over and hooked up his pad. “Any unusual symptoms from….Orion?”

“He seems lethargic and apathetic.”

Knock Out frowned as he scanned the mech. “Sometime that can happen. The changes to a mech’s frame can be stressful, my lord. Everything looks good though. Has he been taking the supplements?”

“I have seen to it myself,” Megatron said, his optics narrowing.

Knock Out nodded, “Good, I should be able to pull up a scan of the sparkling if you want to see it, the sparkling has moved into the gestation tank, and it’s armour is beginning to develop at this stage. Would you like to know it is a mech or a femme?”

Copy cringed inside, he did not want to know any of this.

“Hmm, congratulations my lord. You have a strong little mech on the way.”

“A mech? You are certain?”

“Yes, Lord Megatron. It is a mech.”

“Excellent, a fine proper heir! You have done well, my Orion.”

Copy offlined his optics. Every word made him ill. The more he knew the harder it was going to be when the inevitable happened. 

Megatron petted his plating, “Very well, Orion.” 

It was hard not to protest, not to yell at the warlord. He couldn’t voice his displeasure, not and live to tell the tale.

He was picked up again, pressed against Megatron’s chestplating.

“It is time for your supplements, Orion. Once you are finished, I arranged for several datapads about caring for sparklings to be dropped off at my quarters. You are to read them and learn how to care for our sparkling. My heir must want for nothing.”

Copy trembled and was barely able to nod that he understood. He would read the data pads as soon as they got back. He wanted to be a good creator at least while he had a sparkling to love.

A sob hitched in his chestplates. It escaped, warbling into the air and made Megatron freeze.

“Orion? What is wrong, my consort? You should be happy. This is a happy day?” Megatron frowned down at him. “Things will get better. You feel ill, don’t you?”

If only it was just that. Orion felt like crying.

He felt so overwhelmed and confused. His whole world was changing and he felt so out of control. He had so much to do to get ready for the new arrival and preparations to be made, but at the same time he felt as though if he delayed and dragged his peds, then it wouldn’t happen just yet- then it wouldn’t be real.

Oh how he wished it wasn’t real.

OoOoOoOo

Ironhide scowled, everyone was tense as they made ready for the attack on the Nemesis. The other warships in the fleet had finally came into orbit, and Prowl had held a conference with the other ship commanders to iron out the final plans.

He had gotten his team as prepared as they were going be. This would be a tricky mission for several reasons.

Potential hostages in the form of the humans that the ‘Cons had been rounding up on the surface, enemies using neutrals as shields, and the rescue of the three formerly human sparklings that Optimus’ team were so worried about.

There was great potential for things to go completely sideways, which was worrying. There was too much they did not know. Steeljaw and Blaster’s other symbiotes had been sent in to do recon, and had done an amazing job. Getting Ratchet and the other Autobots out would be sparkling play...it was just everything else that had Ironhide in a tizzy. The sparklings for one, and the unpredictable nature of the predacons which they would have to coax out. It all left far too much to chance.

“How long?” Chromia asked, sidling up to him.

“Not long enough,” Ironhide grunted. 

“Hide, you can’t plan for everything. Just do your best and trust that our troops are well trained enough that they can adapt to any changes that might occur and complete the mission.”

“I know. There is just so much that can go wrong though! What if the femme refuses to leave or cannot get her sparklings to move. What if her mate catches us? And one of the mech is apparently in Megatron’s own quarters! It is going to be tricky to say the least.”

“It will be,” she agreed. “But we have beat worse odds.”

“Good tah know you have faith in me,” Ironhide said.

“You know I’m not the only one that does, and just think...when you get back that hot peice of aft will be here waiting for you.” 

Ironhide rolled his optics, “You are the worst.” 

She laughed at the way even his field seem to blush. “Yeah, I know I am. But it is the truth, my mate. We both know it is.” 

Ironhide made a harumphing noise.

“I am just glad he stopped freaking out on us. I can’t believe he thought that we were siblings!”

“Well we do have a lot in common and if he is from a monogamous culture than he would not expect either of us, let alone both of us seeking and courting him.”

“I suppose. It was funny when he saw your spike! His optics got so huge!”

“Heh, well Hide it isn't my fault that my spike is bigger than both of yours!”

Ironhide snickered, “No, I suppose it is not,” he leaned in and pulled her close. “He didn’t complain long.” 

She smirked, “No, he did not.”

Ironhide purred, recalling it. “It will be a good courtship, I know it will. He will...”

“I know.” 

“He is just so perfect! And his sparkling is so precious!”

Chromia smiled, “She is. I will make sure she gets the guidance a young femme needs. As well as making her some brothers and a few sisters to play with.”

Ironhide revved, “Primus! Can you just imagine Lennox swollen with our sparklings? He will be so slagging hot!”

“He will be. You would as well,” she watched him through half-lidded optics. “Let’s hope this war ends soon so we can find out just how hot.” Her own engine revved loudly. “I’m ready to settle down Hide.”

“Primus knows, I am too.” He turned back to the weapon stores, “I don’t think we can get any more ready than we are. 

“I agree. We are as ready as we will ever be. It has to happen soon though or the troops will lose their edge. You know quickly they get bored. That is the last thing we want to have happen when this much is on the line.”

“I agree. if this works, then the war will be over for good. Are the second waves ready?”

“Yes, once we have secured the neutrals, we attack the Cons on their flagship.”

“Good, that is exactly what I want to here. Mirage and his team are already ready. It is a shame Jazz is in no condition to be put to use.”

Ironhide pulled a face at that, “Now that was a big mess. I wish they would have waited to have their little breakdown.” 

“It is what it is, Hide. Carriers are fragile, and Prowl is...well...exceptions must be made. We would not be where we are now without them.”

“Yeah, I guess.” 

Chromia shook her helm. “Hide.” 

“Chromia.”

“Hide.”

“He put us all at risk because for someone so slaggin smart, he is so fragging stupid! What kind of idiot turns off his emotional protocols? You deal with your problems, not delete them!”

“Hide, he was under a lot of stress-”

“He is a grown mech. He can’t run from his problems! That just makes them worse as we saw!”

“No Bot is perfect.”

“No they aren’t, but he fraggin’ acts like he is and then pulls this kinda slag. Jazz could have offlined himself and the bitty...and frag if we wouldn't have lost Prowl as well,” Ironhide seethed.

“Yeah, well luckily it didn’t roll out that way. Things worked out,” Chromia shrugged, “And I’m sure that Prowl won’t do it again.” 

“I have trouble believing that.”

“I don’t think he can.” 

Ironhide gave her a curious look, and she shrugged. “Did a little snooping.” 

“And?”

“First Aid disabled Prowl’s ability to turn his protocols off without medical approval. That and Prowl is going to have a regular once a decacycle appointment with Rung to help him deal with his emotions.”

“Good. It is about time he learned to handle them.”

“Hide be nice. He is trying. He was just so shocked by seeing his brother again.”

“Yeah, sure. He should thank Primus he still has a brother. Not all of us were so lucky.” 

Chromia hummed, “Maybe you should see Rung too.”

“No. What I should do is rip Starscream’s spark from his body...like he did my brother.”

“Oh, Hide. That isn’t going to bring him back,” Chromia said, wrapping herself around him.

“You’re right. It won’t. But I can’t stand knowing that he isn’t still functioning. He was such...I can’t believe he’s gone.” Ironhide made a keening noise. This was not a side that he showed most Bots.

Chromia put her arm around him, “Its okay sweetspark. You are okay. It is alright to miss him and mourn him. Just don’t let it take you over. Your brother would never have wanted that for you.”

“He was not supposed to offline. We were both supposed to be here for the end of the war. Start new lives in a time of peace”

Chromia pressed a kiss to Hide’s helm, “So, you will just have to do enough living for two mechs.”

Ironhide shook, “I know. I...he wouldn't want me to just give up. He’d want me to live. Like I’d want him to, but he was my baby brother, Chromia. He was barely more than a kid. Just a few vorns older than Smokey and Hot Rod. Frag. I just can’t get over it. Why the frag did it have to be him?”

Chromia sighed, “I wondered the same thing about Elita. I think it’s normal. To think that. To wonder. Rung would probably have some fancy name for it. You can’t feel sorry though. You have me. And hopefully we will have Lennox. We have a lot to live for, Hide. Avenging your brother...it’s just not going to help.” 

Ironhide sighed and hugged Chromia. “I know you are right but it still hurts.”

“I know my love. I still miss Elita every sol, but I know she would be happy for me. I have you, we will soon have Lennox and Annabelle if all goes well and we will make many siblings for her.”

Ironhide gave a half smile.”Maybe we can name one of them for Cliffjumper.”

Chromia beamed, “Yeah, I think he would have liked that.”

“Yeah, he would have. Frag. I still can’t believe he is gone.” Ironhide’s armour fluffed up, “Back on track, I guess. Blaster and Perceptor are working on something to disengage Nemesis’ shielding. They said it should be ready in a couple of Joor. Guess I should check with them. Everything depends on that.”

Chromia nodded, “Want me to check in with them?”

“If you would.”

She gave him a brilliant smile, “I’ll do that then.”

“Thank you, Chromia. For everything.”

“No problem, lover.That is what I am here for. Just like you would do the same for me.”

“I love you, Chromia.”

“I love you too, Hide.”

She gave him a quick kiss and then headed out to go check on the science mechs.


	7. Chapter 7

Prism shook, “W-what do you mean it is already s-settled?” 

“You are well past the age where I should have found a contract for you. There is just not many nobles left. I had not hoped we could catch the optics of one of the Vosians. They are royalty, Prism. Royalty!” Mirage said in a chiding tone.

“N-no. You can’t do this to me. I don’t want to bond with him.” 

“You will change your mind, I assure you,” Mirage said, reaching out to touch Prism’s helm. “You will do our house proud.” 

“But I do not love him!”

Mirage gave Prism an amused look, “You do not love him now. You will grow to love him. Or at least to be friends. You will do well, I have no doubt.”

Prism felt his spark ache. He did not love Thundercracker and he would never love him. He loved his twins! Sides with his pranks and jokes, Sunny so protective and talented with his art. Sunstreaker had painted Prism over and over, dozens of paintings.

“Do you want to get rid of me that badly? Am I a burden to you?”

“Prism. It is not like that. It is my responsibility to find a good match for you. I am your adopted creator and the head of your house. This is a good match, as I said. He is from a good line. A worthy one.”

“I want the twins. I love them.”

“You know that cannot happen. They are low-born.”

“That is a horrible thing to say,” Prism snapped back, his spinal strut straightening and his doorwing rose high on his back as if he was trying to make himself look bigger.

“It is the truth. They are not worthy of our line.”

“Isn’t that why we went to war? The caste system is wrong. I don’t want to have anything to do with it.”

“You are distraught. I think you should go to recharge early and think this over. He will be here in a matter of joors, Prism. You must resign yourself.” 

Prism stared at Mirage in shock, “So soon? Must it be so soon?”

Mirage frowned, “Why not? If it is to occur you might as well do it now instead of waiting and getting yourself worked up about it. Why don’t you soak in the solvents for half a joor or so and get nice and clean. Then I will help you polish yourself to Seeker standards.” 

Prism looked away. He had to find a way out of this. “Yes, Mirage.”

Mirage smiled, “Good. I will go and find where I put your bonding outfit as well as your Houses’ jewels.”

Prism however was comming the Twins in a panic. ::Sides? Sunny? Come Quick! It is urgent!::

::What is wrong, Princess?:: Sideswipe answered nearly immediately.

::Oh, Sides. He’s going to make me bond to one of the Seekers. I don’t want to. I only want you and Sunny. You...you have to come get me. And we have to leave. He’s on his way now!::

There was a long pause, then Sunstreaker got on the comm, ::I will come and get you now. Grab anything you want to bring with you. Sideswipe is going to get one of the shuttles ready. We’ll hide out on the planet for a while.::

::I’ll be waiting for you.:: Prism tried to calm himself and started quietly going through his possessions. Mirage would be back soon.

He looked around the room, there was no way he would be able to take all of his things with him. He began to select his most precious belongings and put them in his subspace. He would have to hope that if and when he and twins returned, Mirage would at least let him get the rest of his stuff.

When he was certain that he had packed what he needed, he edged toward the main door to Mirage and his’ quarters. He looked around and peeked around the doorframe to see if Mirage was in the main room. Sneaking across the open area, he hurried over to the door and activated it. He rushed out into the corridor and then shut the door behind him.

Sunstreaker was outside and pulled him close to his chestplates for a long moment. Prism snuggled close and wailed over the comm, ::I thought that I had lost you!::

::Shhhhh...I have you. Lets go!:: Sunstreaker took his hand and they hurried down the hallway to the docking bay. They snuck along the edges, avoiding the bots that were working there.

::Come on, Sideswipe is over here,:: Sunstreaker said, and pulled him into one of the craft.

::Ready to go?:: Sideswipe asked. ::I got clearance. They think we are joining the rescue parties. Think I might have found a place we can lay low for a while. It’s pulled up on the map.::

Prism shook, emotion getting the better of him as Sunstreaker buckled him in.

“I don’t care where we go as long a I get to stay with you two.”

Sunstreaker sat down and pulled Prism next to him. “You are safe now, Princess. We won’t let him force you to bond.”

Sideswipe launched the craft and flew it out of the bay. The planet looked so odd, so much like Cybertron but also not. It appeared that the Cyberforming had not worked as well as the Decepticons had hoped. There were still huge area covered in dihydrogen oxide in its liquid form and the cyberforming had not been able to penetrate very far into the fluid.

“So where are we heading anyway?”

“I figured that the best way to keep from being made to return is to do something that needed doing. So we’re are going to go check on a group of mechs that have been out of contact. They were in a place called Griffin Rock.”

Prism blinked at the strange word, “Is that a native name? I mean...the human’s name for the place?”

Sideswipe nodded, “Yes. Exactly that. You might want to turn off your comms, I’m sure Mirage will be looking for you any klik now.”

Prism’s doorwings quivered. He did not like having to defy his adopted creator. It wasn’t in his nature to be defiant, but he could not obey him in this. As if on cue he received a comm from Mirage. It was an instant ping. He ignored it as best as he could before turning off his comm system altogether. “I can’t---can’t do this,” he bawled. “He will never speak to me again.”

“He will love you regardless, sweetspark. Calm down.” 

“No he won’t! He will hate me! He won’t want me anymore. He...he doesn’t think I should be with you two. He, he said that you two were, were lowborn. That you were not worthy of our house.”

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe growled angrily. “Oh, really? Well for his information we are not ‘lowborn’. We just happened to be created outside of a bond.”

Prism looked up at Sideswipe and Sunstreaker in shock, “Wait, what?”

Sunstreaker smiled at him, “Oh yes. One of our creators was a noble. A pretty highly ranked one in Polyhex. Our Carrier however was not from as high of a family. One of the new rich as we once heard it put. They had us, but our sire’s House would not allow him to bond to our carrier. He took care of us though, paid for our carrier’s home, energon, medic trips. He sent us tutors and the best upgrades. Spent time with us when he could but he never bonded with Stormsurge. If Mirage gets too bad when we end up going back, we will tell him. Even Mirage must have heard of Solarflare of House Stellaluna.”

Prism’s optics widened, “I’ve heard of him. He was in one of the lineage datapads Mirage made me study. Wow.” 

Sunstreaker smirked, “Yeah...we got the best of everything until we became teenbots. We ran away. Not the brightest of ideas, but it made us who we are today.” 

“To...the fighting pits?” Prism asked, he knew that much. They had met Megatron there, and had refused to join the Cons. He shivered at the thought. he couldn’t imagine meeting the Slag-maker. He’d probably melt into a puddle of fear. 

“Yeah, exactly that,” Sunstreaker said with a shrug. “It was a different time and place. Not something we would do now, but what we learned there has kept us alive.” 

“I wish you two had not had to go to the fighting pits. Just thinking of what could have happened to you there terrifies me. I might never have met you.”

Sunstreak grinned and pressed a soft kiss to Prism’s helm, “If we had never been in the pits, we never would have become as good of fighters or been as strong as we are. We certainly would never have run into Jazz when he was undercover and gotten out of there with him.”

Prism shivered at the very thought of them not making it out of that terrible place. “Then, I wish, I wish, I had been there! To help you, be with you.”

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe both frowned at his words. “Never wish that, Princess. Pretty little mechs like you were used like currency in the rings. We might not have been able to protect you, or unable at all if it was a champion or an owner who messed with you. You would have ended up a prize to be given to the winner of a match and then taken on the energon soaked sands right after.”

“We would never forgive ourselves if that happened to you, Princess. You are _/our//_ Princess, _/our//_ sweetspark.”

Prism trembled, “T-taken on the sands? R-really? T-that kind of thing happened?”

“Yes, love, it did,” Sunstreaker said. “We wouldn't want anything like that ever to happen to you.”

“Oh. T-that is horrible. I can’t imagine how mechs could keep slaves like that. Praxus never allowed that. I remember our servants...barely. I was so small when the city fell. I think---that the t-towerlings kept them. I d-don’t know about Mirage.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. Iaconian Towerlings like him usually did. Dozens of them for various reasons. Cleaning up after them, staff, even...well for bad things.”

“Bad things? What do you mean?” Prism looked up at Sunstreaker confusion plain on his faceplates.

Sideswipe sighed, “He means that they kept mechs as slaves to have someone to hurt when they were mad or interface with whenever they wanted.”

Prism’s field flared out with the horror he could not hide. “W-why would they do that? H-how...”

“They did it because they could,” Sunstreaker said.

Prism frowned, “I don’t understand how mechs could do these things at all. I-I know I’m naive and sheltered. I guess Mirage tried to protect me from s-stuff like this.” 

“I cannot blame him. You are a very special, little mech. He loves you. I can tell.” 

“But not enough to let me do what I want with my life,” Prism whispered.

“I imagine it is hard for him to let his culture go. We will bond though...you do want to bond?” Sunstreaker asked.

It was impossible to miss the bright flare of Prism’s field, “More than anything.”

Sunstreaker stole a kiss and smiled down at Prism, “Good, so do we. As soon as we land and find a safe place, we can bond. Then no one can part us then.”

“That sounds perfect. I love you Sunny. I love you Sides.”

“And we both love you. More than even both of our sparks can hold.”

Prism cuddled against Sunstreaker, feeling safe in his arms. “Hang on you two, we are landing. Welcome to Griffin Rock.”

They came to a gentle landing, and disembarked. Prism stared. The landscape was nothing like Cybertron. He had never been to an organic world. Had never seen any organics really, and the little creatures that came running out left him squealing and running to hide behind the twins.

“Who are you?” one of the creatures demanded brandishing some kind of three tined weapon.

“We are here to see Heatwave. We were sent by Optimus Prime,” Sideswipe said, opticing the creatures.

Sunstreaker made sure that Prism was safely behind him and away from the little creatures. A smaller one came forward, “You are looking for Heatwave? Did Optimus send you?”

“CODY NO! Get away from those things. They could be violent like the others!”

Sideswipe cocked his helm, “Others? What others?”

Cody pointed at what appeared to be the remains of a bridge of some sort. “The ones on the main land. Heatwave and his team had to start patrolling to keep the crazy ones from getting on the island.”

“Frag,” Sideswipe said. “Are they out patrolling now?” 

“Yeah, but I can radio them in,” the boy said brandishing a walky-talky. “You a-aren’t going to make them leave? Are you?”

“No, we are just here to check on them, and stay a few sols,” Sunstreaker said.

“Is something wrong with him?” Cody asked, pointing at Prism.

“No, he’s just never seen an organic before,” Sideswipe said.

“Oh,” Cody said, staring at the smaller mech. He was the smallest bot Cody had ever seen.

He bet that his head wouldn’t even reach Blades’ shoulder!

“Are...are you a kid or something?” He moved closer to Prism, smiling and waving. “Cause, I am a kid too so there is no need to be scared, okay?”

Prism yelped and moved around Sunstreaker so that he was between him and the organic.  
That thing was not going to touch him!

“He’s just shy and skittish,” Sideswipe said. “Could you ah---get Heatwave, please? Or show us to their base of operations.” 

“Oh, sure. How about I take you there and have them meet us there,” Cody said, still eyeing Prism.

Prism put the twins between him and the creature as the made their way to the Rescue Bot’s base. He did not trust the creature at all. It made him nervous...even if it was much smaller than he was.

Fortunately the base for the small group of mechs was not far away from where they had landed. When they arrived, a mech came out with rotors like Blades. “Cody! You’re back! You need to tell us when you leave! It’s not saf- Oh! Who are you?”

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker exchanged a look, “I am Sideswipe and this is Sunstreaker and that is Prism. We came to see why you were not responding to hails.”

“What hails? We haven't picked up anything on the system we had with Prime. Did something happen?”

The twins exchanged another glance, “Yes, you could say that. We have a fleet waiting to attack the Nemesis. The comm system that Optimus’ group would have gone down with the cyberforming.”

“Oh...is that what happened? We were wondering. There were a bunch of strange mechs, and the internet and well everything went down. It’s been really weird.” 

Sideswipe nodded, “Yeah...I’m sure it has been.”

“So, what is your designation?” Sunstreaker asked.

“Blades, why?” 

“You’re joking right?” Sideswipe laughed. 

“No? Is there something wrong with my name being Blades? I mean, it has always been my name and I am kinda used to it-”

Prism giggled, it was like listening to a copy of little Bluestreak. Sunstreaker smiled at Prism and then turned to Blades. “You have the same name as someone we know. But you act nothing like him.”

“Oh, really? That is very strange. I wasn’t aware that it was that common of a name. So...how does he act anyway?”

“Like an aft,” Sunstreaker laughed.

Blade’s looked disappointed, “Oh, well, that isn’t any fun at all.”

“Not at all. He has a crazy femme following him around everywhere,” Sideswipe added.

“Oh...wow. I haven’t met many femmes. I know Arcee is one. But she never came with Bumblebee to check in on us. Is he okay? I mean Bumblebee. I really---uh---yeah---he’s safe?” 

“Bumblebee? Yes, he is fine. He is getting ready to take part in the attack. Apparently the ‘Cons took some of the organics that Prime’s team were close to. We are going to rescue them and the mechs that were organics that have been enslaved as well.”

Blades gasped, “Enslaved? Oh no! That is terrible. And it’s just me and Dani here right now! Chase and Chief Burns are patrolling with Heatwave and Kade. Then Graham and Boulder went to go help Doc Greene and Frankie do some repairs around the main lab.”

Sideswipe stared at the mech blankly, picking out a few familiar names in the babbling. “Yeah, well you might want to call them in. In the mean time...do you have a room for us?”

“Oh, sure. There are a couple empty ones.”

“We just need one,” Sideswipe said.

Blades blinked at them, “Oh! Oh...I-I see.” 

“Yeah, I think Prism need to take a recharge nap. He’s very....excitable.”

“Excitable? Why? There is nothing to get overly excited over. There hasn’t been any of the insane people near the island in a week.”

Sideswipe sighed, “Prism has never been around organics before. He is a bit out of sorts and needs time to compose himself.”

“Oh! Of course! Follow me! You can use the side room!”

Blades showed them to a smaller room with a berth on one side, “Is this okay?” 

“It’s fine,” Sideswipe said. “We will be...ah back in a bit.” He ushered Blades out the door. “Just ping us when the others get back. I’m sure Prism will be better by then.” 

He slipped back into the room and shut the door, leaving a very confused mech on the other side. Sideswipe locked the door and turned, smirking. “See...that wasn’t so bad.” 

Prism smiled up at him, then squeaked as Sunstreaker scooped him up and carried him to the berth. He gazed up at the twins as he was set down and the two of them curled around his frame. “Are you ready Prism?”

Prism was nervous but mostly excited, “Yes. I love you both and want to bond with you.”

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe smiled, each pressing a kiss to Prism’s lips. Then Sunstreaker guided him flat on the berth before moving between his legs and pressing small kisses to his panel.

Prism allowed it to snap open for the first time, baring his sealed array to Sunstreaker’s startled optics.

“Oh, Primus, you are beautiful,” Sunstreaker said, reaching out and touching the seal, running his digit around the rim of the small mech’s valve. “Absolutely beautiful.” He leaned down, flicking his glossa against the shimmering seal. It was the color of opals. He hummed against the rim, savouring the whimper he elicited from Prism.

Prism whimpered, he’d never felt anything like this. It was...odd. He seemed to clench inside, and his frame felt unbearably hot.

“Our good little mech. Have you ever even touched your array?”

Prism blushed. “N-no! Mirage said, that good mechs didn't do naughty things like that.”

Sideswipe laughed and pressed another kiss to Prism’s lips. “And you are always such a good mech. How did we get so lucky to find someone as perfect as you?”

Prism moaned at the feeling as Sunstreaker pressed a series of little kisses from his valve seal to the one over his spike. “I-I am the lucky one!”

Prism panted. It felt like his spark would burst from his chest, “W-what am I supposed to do?” he whimpered, squirming beneath Sunstreaker. 

“Just relax,” Sideswipe whispered nuzzling his audial. He trailed a claw across Prism’s sparkplates, “We will take care of you.”

“W-we probably d-don’t have long,” Prism whined, squirming. He wasn’t even completely sure how this worked.

“Relax Prism, we are going to take our time. Your first time should be special. If they need us, one of us will go and deal with them while the other remains and deals with you.”

Prism blushed and then moaned as Sunstreaker sucked at the seal over his spike. Sideswipe grinned and then reached down, tweaking the tip of his doorwings where they peeked over his shoulder.

Prism arched, gasping loudly. “Please.” 

Sunstreaker watched him keen and gasp, and smiled as he nibbled at the edge of the seal. Prism’s spike had already began to pressurize against the seal, pressing against it, but not breaking through yet. Sunstreaker sucked on the surface of it, softening the pliant material until it finally broke.

Prism whimpered at the sharp pain as the seal broke, but the pain melted away as Sunstreaker took the pressurized spike into his mouth.

Prism gasped and arched up, straining his doorwings at the too intense feeling of having his spike out and active for the first time followed by having his spike sucked by Sunstreaker’s talented mouth and glossa. It was too good!

Sideswipe laughed and eased him back onto his back. “Easy Prism. Don’t want you to hurt yourself. He is good with his glossa isn’t he?”

Prism was not talking at the moment though, he was a bit out of his processor with pleasure. He moaned and mewled at Sunstreaker’s hands, mouth and glossa.

A cry burst from his vocalizer as he was pushed into overload, and looked up at the ceiling in a daze. He couldn't form two words, let alone string together a full sentence.

“Rust it, you are beautiful in pleasure,” Sideswipe said, watching Prism’s faceplates as Sunstreaker lapped at the little mech’s depressurizing spike.

“And he is just as sweet tasting,” Sunstreaker hummed. “Want to switch places?”

“Mmmm...go ahead, I like watching you. It’s hot as the pit. I swear.” 

Sunstreaker hummed happily, nuzzling Prism’s valve, “You want to watch me pound into him, is that it?” 

Sideswipe’s engine revved loudly, “More than anything.”

Prism however looked nervous, “P-pound me? That, that sounds painful.” He looked down at Sunstreaker with suddenly frightened optics.

Sunstreaker laughed softly, “Oh, sweetspark. We will never hurt you. Never ever.”

Sideswipe grinned, “Yes, you will know only love and pleasure from us, Princess.”

Sunstreaker looked at the sealed valve before him and tried to think of how to remove it without hurting Prism too much. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he hurt the smaller mech. Finally he leaned in, lapping at the seal until it softened, stretching beneath his glossa.

His finger’s found the edge of the seal, pulling it off with a quick jerk. Prism squeaked at the sudden pain, but was distracted easily enough when Sunstreaker dipped his glossa against the valve rim, dipping inside and flitting against the nodes for the first time. 

Prism moan, wiggling until Sunstreaker held his hips down, pushing his glossa in deeper.

::How does he taste?::

Sunstreaker moaned, making Prism squeak at the vibrations. ::Like the best high grade mixed with energon candy. I could get addicted to his taste.::

::Good thing we aren’t letting him get away then.:: Sideswipe watched Sunstreaker lap at the now dripping valve. Prism was moaning and mewling so prettily, trying to wiggle in Sunstreaker’s grip. Such a lovely sight.

Sunstreaker swallowed wave upon wave of fluids, savoring how sweet that Prism tasted. He felt triumphant when Prism’s valve clamped down and trembled as he overloaded again.

“I think you are nice and wet now. Are you ready, Princess?”

Prism watched him through bleary optics, “There is more?” 

Sunstreaker chuckled, and climbed up Prism’s chassis, catching his mouth in a wet kiss. “So much more,” Sunstreaker promised.

He carefully lined up his spike, pushing just the tip inside. Prism whimpered, his hips twitching up.

“Oh...oh...that---that feels---” 

“Good?” Sunstreaker asked, pushing in another inch. The valve clenched, rippling around the spike invading it.

“Amazing,” Prism finally managed to get out.

Sunstreaker pushed steadily inside until he was finally sheathed, their housing grinded against each other. 

Prism whined and shifted slightly, he was barely venting and his optics were shuttered. Sideswipe pressed a kiss to his helm, “Prism? you still with us? Does anything hurt?”

Sunstreaker was watching Prism’s faceplates for any sign of pain.

Prism opened his optics but while his mouth moved, no sound came out. Sideswipe chuckled, “I think our Princess is a bit overwhelmed. Such a treasure for us, being the only ones to have taste how sweet our sweetspark really is.”

“Mmmm...a bit overwhelmed,” Sunstreaker agreed, “And so sensitive.” He smiled, and finally began to moved, pulling out slowly. Prism quivered beneath him, mouth opening in a silent scream.

“And so beautiful in pleasure,” Sideswipe said, plucking at Prism’s doorwings. He dipped his claws into the most sensitive of seams to tease the wires beneath.

“Sunstreaker...” Prism whimpered, his hips rolling up to meet each slow thrust. “please. Faster. Please.” 

“Patience, Prism,” Sunstreaker teased. 

Prism mewled and tried to get Sunstreaker to move faster. Between Sideswipe and Sunstreaker though he was trapped and they continued to slowly drive him mad with pleasure.

“You are so beautiful like this, Princess. So very beautiful. I want to paint you like this, so overwhelmed and feeling such pleasure.”

Sideswipe rumbled, “That would be so hot. Put it in our home, in our berthroom. Just for our optics, no one elses.”

Prism whined, they were so naughty. Wonderfully so. Sunstreaker drove into him and it felt perfect, right.

His valve rippled and clamped down hard on Sunstreaker’s spike, a shout left his vocalizer as he was finally tipped over into overload, it was only moments later that Sunstreaker followed transfluid spurting from the mech’s spike.

Sunstreaker moaned, and caught himself before he collapsed onto Prism. 

Sideswipe whistled behind them, “Hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Prism shifted, it felt so strange having Sunstreaker’s fluids in him. It felt almost too hot at first but now it felt...right. Sunstreaker chuckled, “I take it that you are eager for your turn?”

Sideswipe gave a mighty rev, “Oh, Primus, yes! You both look so good. I can’t wait.”

Sunstreaker carefully slid his spike out, making Prism mewl at the feeling. By the time his spike was out, it was already half repressurized. Sideswipe nudged him out of the way eager to take their soon to be bonded.

Sunstreaker however paused and looked from his spike to Prism’s mouth. “Prism, would you mind trying something?”

Prism looked up at him with wide optics, from Sunstreaker’s spike up to the mech. The thing looked...huge. “W-what do you want me to do?”

Sunstreaker’s optics brightened, “I want to take your mouth.” 

Prism blinked and considered it, “I---I don’t know...how to do that. A-are you sure it would ah---fit?”

He leaned forward, and touched Sunstreaker’s spike shyly. “I can try...” 

“I will help,” Sunstreaker winked. 

Prism gave his spike a wary glance, “What am I supposed to do?”

Sunstreaker grinned, a servo around his now pressurized spike. “First you open your mouth.”

Prism was about to ask what came after that, when Sideswipe slowly slid his spike into Prism’s valve. Prism moaned at the feeling, his mouth falling open. Sunstreaker took advantage of the opportunity and slid the tip of his spike into Prism’s mouth.

Prism blinked in startlement and almost went cross-opticked trying to look at his spike.

“Relax, your intake and let me do the work,” Sunstreaker murmured, rocking deeper into Prism’s oral cavity. Prism whined, and the vibrations hit Sunstreaker’s spike making him gasp. “Oh Primus, that feels good.” 

He rocked in, starting a shallow pace that was echoed by Sideswipe. The tight, wet warmth around his spike was...almost unbearable.

The spike finally pressed against his intake, and then passed through. Prism swallowed around it reflexively, not sure if he liked this sensation at all. It was...different.

Sunstreaker seemed to love it. He had closed his optics and moaned as he rocked his spike in and out. Prism was still unsure about this, he had never heard about doing….whatever he was doing. It was only fair though, Sunstreaker had done this to him earlier. Sunstreaker’s spike didn’t taste too badly though to his surprise, it was...kind of sweet with a tangy flavor underneath.

Sideswipe had continued to thrust in and out of his valve and his moans at the feelings made Sunstreaker do the same. It felt so good!

He let his glossa flick against the spike in his mouth, eliciting a loud moan from Sunstreaker. He did like that. Sunstreaker’s obvious pleasure made him feel giddy. He wanted that. He wanted to see the mech come undone.

He swallowed the spike down, letting his intake ripple around it and clench. It felt just as odd as before, but it wrung a gasp from Sunstreaker’s vocalizer, and suddenly hot fluid was gushing down his throat. He tasted it as Sunstreaker slid out of his mouth and was surprised at how sweet it tasted. Almost like energon candy. His glossa flicked out, lapping up the fluids.

Sunstreaker slipped his spike out of Prism’s mouth, “You were amazing, sweetspark.”

Prism smiled, glad at he had made Sunstreaker happy. He blushed and moan as Sideswipe began to increase his pace in his valve. Sunstreaker pressed a kiss to Prism’s chestplates. “Open up for me Princess. It is time to bond our sparks together.”

Prism looked away and then opened his chestplates. Sunstreaker gasped when his spark was revealed. It was a bright iridescent silver with a blueish tinge to it.

“You are beautiful!”

Prism flushed, “I am?”

“Yes, you are,” Sideswipe agreed. His own plates pulling aside to reveal his own spark. A rolling mass of red and gold that was a mirror image to Sunstreaker’s.

The twins leaned forward as one, pressing their chest to Prism’s. His spark energy pressed into their own, the silver intermingling with the gold and red spark energy of the twins. It felt like he was being pulled in, enveloped.

The protocols for bonding began to initiate, and his spark felt...he didn't even have the words for it.

He felt a sense of amusement and love and was startled to realize that it was not his own. He looked at Sideswipe and felt another pulse of amusement. ::Never going to get away from us now, Princess::

::Like we would let him get away from us. Going to love you forever, Princess::

Prism looked at Sunstreaker and was swept into a kiss from the golden twin. Sideswipe rocked his spark against Prism’s and Sunstreaker’s making them moan as the spark energy crackled between them. Prism was amazed and a little frightened of how good it felt.

::Let go Sweetspark. We have you. You are safe.::

Prism’s backstrut boughed as he did just that, his spark flared with charge as overload finally took all three of them. He only dimly heard the pounding on the door. It be came louder until the door finally flew open. Prism was not coherent enough to understand what was going on at first, or why Mirage was suddenly there, yelling and beating on the twin’s back.

“What are you doing?” the blue mech screamed. “What have you done?”

Prism tried to focus on what was happening, but he could only seem to focus inward on the pulse of love/need/want that pulsed through the newly made bond.

Suddenly Sideswipe was torn from on top of him, and he was dragged off the berth roughly. “What have you done you stupid little idiot!? How dare you repay me for all the time I spent raising you by running off and acting like a whore!”

Prism stared at Mirage in dazed disbelief. How had Mirage gotten here? How had he found them so soon? “I-I love-”

“If you say you did this because you ‘love them’ then you are a bigger fool than I thought! They have nothing to offer you! They are mindless thugs!”

Prism quivered with rage, “They are not. You don’t know them like I do. They love me.”

“Get your hands off of our bonded,” Sunstreaker growled from the doorway. He moved closer, his armour puffing out and his weapon systems coming online. “He is ours now, you can’t take him away from us ever again.” 

He pushed Mirage away from Prism, maneuvering the mech behind him, and into the safety of Sideswipes arms.

Mirage bristled, growling deeply in his chest. “You ruined him.” 

“He is not ruined!”

“Do you think that any decent mech or femme would want him now that he has been tainted by you two abominations? Why they even allowed split spark freaks like you online escapes me! Now I will have to have this freakish bond you attempted to forge broken, and try to find some mech who will overlook what a filthy little whore you turned out to be!”

Prism shook, “No. No you won’t. I-I’m not your possession. I-if I have to I will petition t-the Prime. We are bonded. You can’t take me away from them.”

Mirage stared at the little mech, his mouth opening, but no sound came out. 

“You know the Prime would not agree with your planning. I’m not some commodity to be sold, and I will not be anyone’s slave, Mirage. I love you like a creator, but I don’t owe you anything.” 

Mirage just stared at the little Praxian as if he had grown a second helm. “Prism.” 

Sideswipe growled, “You heard him. He owes you nothing and you have said far more than enough! Be glad we love him, because it is only for his sake that we arn’t beating the slag out of you for what you said to him!”

“How dare you speak to me like that! I am Mirage of House Daybreak of Iacon! Let go of my ward and crawl back to your proper station! Prism, come back. We can make sure you didn't bond. I am sure that Winglord Thundercracker would overlook your lack of seals if you were sweet enough to him.”

“You aren't taking him. He is ours!”

“No, I will not come. I am where I belong. They are from House Stellaluna and you can't tell me that is not a worthy house,” Prism said, standing his ground. “I will not let you dissolve our bond. I will not bond with Thundercracker. I will not and you cannot make me.” 

Mirage frowned at Prism, “You are not acting like yourself. You have never been willful like this. I don’t understand why you are doing this. I raised you to be a good mech, a proper mate for a lord.”  
“I am being myself. You can’t blame me for wanting my own happiness,’ Prism said.

“You are being willful. You would have learned to be happy with Lord Thundercracker! Now you have thrown it away for two freakish thugs who lied to you. Do you really think that frames as bulky and brutish would come out of a noble house?”

“They-they ran away. Joined in the fights at-”

‘What mech in his right processor would want to leave a life of luxury and indulgence for fighting? You actually believed them? Oh Primus!”

Sunstreaker growled, “Are you calling us liars? Why the frag would we lie about something like that?”

Mirage’s optics narrowed, “Fine, I’m sure you won’t mind submitting to a CNA test then.” 

Sideswipe growled, “If we do will you shut the frag up? Prism doesn’t need this kind of treatment. He needs your support and your love.”

“If you are telling the truth I will not say another word in the matter. I do not, however think that you are.” 

Sunstreaker glared, “You can think that all you want, right up until we prove you wrong, and we will. Then you will apologize to Prism, and beg for his forgiveness.”

“IF I am wrong you mean. Of course I would. Prism is my sparkling. I want him happy and not regretting his actions a mere vorn down the road. Know this, if you ever do anything to hurt my Prism if I allow your bond to stand- they will _**never**_ find your frames.”

Sunstreaker looked outraged at the mere suggestion, but Sideswipe just nodded. “Fair enough. Know that the same applies to you after this. We are not going to do anything because you are understandably upset at the suddenness of our bonding but make Prism cry ever again and it will be _**your**_ frame that is never found.”

Prism trembled, “Please stop threatening each other. Please. I’d be very upset if anyone was hurt. I love you all.” 

Mirage looked at Prism and shook as well, “I am sorry I said those things, but surely you can understand why I was upset? I have only ever wanted the best for you. You are my only sparkling.”

“I---I understand,” Prism said, “We should get back to the ship then, and see First Aid.” 

Mirage sighed and shook his helm. “We are already here. We need to speak with the mechs who are here and find out what happened here as well as why they did not reply to our comm calls.”

“The mech we spoke to said that they had not heard from us, and had been waiting to hear from Prime over the comm system they had with the other base.”

“That would explain if they only had a short range, with only a planetary reach.”

“There are still organics here,” Sideswipe said, “There was some kind of barrier that kept out the cybermatter. Probably affected the systems as well.” 

Prism listened to the exchange with wide optics, not entirely sure about an of it. “Perhaps you should talk to that Heatwave bot.”

“That is a good idea, Prism. You should clean up. Your….bondeds as well. We don’t need to traumatize the organic sparkling that lives here.”

Prism nodded, looking down he was mortified to see that he was covered in fluids that were dripping down his legs from where the twins had been inside him. “Yes, Mirage.”

Sunstreaker pulled out some cleaning clothes from his subspace and started tidying Prism, before he worked on himself, and shoved a clean cloth at Sideswipe. “Just give us a klik and we will be presentable,” he said.

Mirage watched them through narrow optics. He still looked mad, Prism could tell. It was disheartening.

“Good,” Mirage said, and stepped from the room.

True to Sunstreaker’s word they were clean enough to pass muster in a few kliks.

Sideswipe took Prism’s arm and drew him to him while Sunstreaker finished cleaning himself up. “You are so perfect Princess. How did we get so lucky?”

Prism blushed, “Well, the stories always say that a princess has brave knights to save them. I am the lucky one: I have two.”

“Which means that you will always be safe, our perfect Princess. What else are knights for?”

Prism’s blush grew and his optics flicked to the twins, “They rescue the Princess, of course.” 

“Of course,” Sideswipe agreed with a grin.

Sunstreaker swept Prism up into his arms, “Unless they turn into the Predacons guarding the Princess in their tower!”

Prism giggled as Sunstreaker kept him away from Sideswipe. “Oh no! Who will save me?”

Sideswipe laughed, “I will save you, Princess!”

“We will always save you, Princess. We love you more than anything.” Sunstreaker swept the small bot into a kiss, revving his engine loudly. “Just wait till we get you back to our rooms.”

Prism squirmed just thinking about it. 

A knock at the door made them pause and Mirage could be heard on the other side, “You are supposed to be cleaning him up, not getting him even filthier!” 

Sideswipe got a wicked smirk that Sunstreaker shared. Both of them began to moan and grunt like they had when they had been interfaced. Prism blushed with embarrassment. 

More pounding on the door followed, “Knock it off! We have a job to do!” 

Prism flushed wiggled free and opened the door, “We are ready, creator. They were just yanking your gears.” 

Mirage narrowed his optics, and looked down at Prism, “Fine, you will pass muster. Let’s go.” 

Prism took a step and was swept back up into Sunstreaker’s arms. “We will all go. Wherever our Princess goes, we will be there.” 

Prism blushed and smiled at Sunstreaker. Sideswipe moved so he walked next to Sunstreaker and stole a kiss from Prism. “Oh yes, there is no getting rid of us now Princess Prism.”

Mirage grumbled half under his breath, “Unfortunately.” 

Prism smiled, and ignored Mirage’s remark. He was...happier than he had been in a long time. He could feel the twins through the bond. It was not as strong as when their sparks were joined, but it was a comforting presence. 

“Fine,” Mirage said, “let’s go talk to this Heatwave. I want to get this overwith.” 

They moved out of the living area and found the mechs, or at least a few of them, gathered in the commonroom. Blades was one of the bots and he stared at them with wide optics. 

“Is everyone alright?” 

Prism blushed even harder, “Y-yes. We are all fine.” 

“Are you certain? Did you hurt your leg or something? Why is the other robot carrying you?” 

Sunstreak bristled at the organic next to a red mech calling him a robot. The red mech frowned at the organic and turned to Sunstreaker. “Sorry about that. Kade is an idiot at times and doesn’t get that that is rude.”

“It’s fine,” Prism said, wiggling in Sunstreaker’s arms, but the mech did not put him down, if anything he held on more tightly....and growled.

The big red mech raised a brow plate, but ignored it. “So, Optimus sent you? What exactly is going on?” 

Mirage stepped forward, “Optimus did send us, he wanted to assure your safety.” 

“Yeah, thanks. What the frag happen-” 

“Heatwave! Language! Not in front of Cody!” 

The red mech grumbled, “What happened to the rest of the planet?” 

“The Decepticons managed to acquire a Prime artifact. The Omega Lock. It was designed to re-energize Cybertron. They used it to cybertform this planet. How have your organics survived?”

“I would imagine it was because of the shieling on this place. The whole town is shielded as a security precaution. There were too many incidents.”

Mirage nodded, “I’m not sure if that is a good or bad things. As far as we know they are the only organics left on the planet.”

Heatwave stared, “What?”

Mirage nodded, “I am afraid so.” 

The organic next to Heatwave gasped, “Wait are you saying that we are the last of our kind?’ 

Prism shook his helm, “No, just the only ones still organic. Some of your kind were turned into mechs or femmes.” 

The young organic blinked, “Wait! Some people turned into bots? That is so Noble!”

Mirage stared, “Noble...is not the word I’d use to describe it. Unfortunate, perhaps. Most of them...did not make it through the change mentally intact, but I suppose you know that.” he said looking at the rescue bots present. 

“There might be more of us though? Right?” 

“We don’t know,” Mirage said. “Anything is possible.” 

“What is going on then, with Optimus and the other Autobots?” 

“About now, they are launching an assault force against the Nemesis. Megatron stole three organic younglings that Prime’s team had adopted. We are going to rescue them and the other turned mechs that the vehicons have been snatching. Then we attack. This might be the final battle.” 

“A battle? Oh no! Will...will Bumblebee fight?”

Mirage looked to Blades, “I’m sure he will. He is a brave warrior from what Optimus says.” 

Blades got all starry-opticed, “Oh, I bet he is. He’s just so---so---” He looked around and looked flustered at the way the organics and the other bots were staring at him. “Oh...yeah...he’s brave.” He flushed as bright red as Prism had earlier. 

“Brave...right,” Sideswipe snorted. 

Blades’ team gave him knowing looks. “You are welcome to visit him on board the ship or when we arrive to the Earth. We have had to hide among the asteroid belt within this system to avoid detection.” 

“Really? I could visit?! That would be-uh I mean what a nice offer. I could show robo-baby!”

“Robo-baby?” Sideswipe asked, looking confused. “You...ah...have a sparkling?”

“No-no....nothing like that. Well sorta like that, but not,” Blades said excitedly. 

Sideswipe stared, “Then what exactly do you mean?” He exchanged a confused glance with the other bots from the Axiom. 

“One of the humans made a fake human baby to study how human babies live. We took care it for a day. It liked my rotors!” 

“It also liked a vulcanized water fowl but then lost it down a drain. Which resulted in a large clog that caused partial flooding.” 

“Yes, thank you Chase. But Robo-baby was so cute!”

“Sounds dangerous,” Prism said, blinking as he tried to work out what exactly they were talking about. 

“It’s not really, it’s really cute. Almost as cute as a real sparkling,” Blades said. 

“As nice as that all is, we should be going soon,” Mirage said. “We need to report back to Optimus.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Blades said. 

“No need to be sorry. We simply have to return to report our findings and perhaps send some personnel down to assist so it is not the four of you having to protect this island by yourselves.”

“It would be appreciated. Is there a way to connect our communications with your ship?” 

“It the battle goes well, we can link you into the armadas comm system with no problem.”

Heatwave nodded, “We would appreciate it.”

“We will be in touch then,” Mirage said, and motioned for the twins and Prism to follow him out. 

“Good,” Heatwave said, “When will we be expecting reinforcements?” 

“Most likely in the next couple of sols, Primus willing,” Mirage said. 

“Good. It has been hard on us and our human friends to try and protect the entire island from the crazed mechs who keep trying to attack us.” 

“Completely understandable. We will urge them to send assistance as soon as possible to give your team some well earned rest.” 

“Can I come with you? I want to see your ship and all the other bots!” 

“Sorry Cody. Your dad would worry if we let you go with them.”

“Maybe next time,” Prism said, “staring at the little organic. They were....fascinating now that he got a good look at them. They looked so similar to his own people, and so very different at once. 

The organic beamed at him, “I can’t wait to tell Frankie! This is so cool.” 

Finally Mirage lead them out of the bots base and back to their shuttles. “Go directly to the medbay,” the noble said.

Prism winced at Mirage’s tone. The mech would be testy about this for vorns. He could tell. 

This would be interesting to see what happened. He hoped that Mirage would be nicer to the twins when he found out that their sire was a noblemech. He wished he would be nicer anyway. 

He just wanted the people that he loved, to love each other as well. He knew that the twins would do anything for him and he for them. Mirage was the same way. It was unsettling that they could not get along.

He would just have to try harder to make them like each other. He knew he could do it. He did not like all of this strife and arguing, and he really didn’t like Mirage’s attitude at the moment. 

The twins led him to their ship, “Well, that went well,” Sideswipe said as the got inside, and found their seats, Sideswipe moved up to the pilots chair. 

“What?” Prism asked, “Seriously?” 

“Yes, seriously,” Sunstreaker said. “Kinda expected him to challenge us to a duel.”

“D-duel you? As, as in fight each other?” 

Prism looked as though he might faint at the idea. “Shh, take it easy Princess. It didn’t happen. You are fine, we are fine and Mirage is half-way to accepting us just because he wants to make you happy.” 

Prism curled against Sunstreaker, enjoying the way he could faintly feel him through their new bond. A ripple of happiness rubbed against him through the bond and Prism giggled, ‘That tickled.”

Sunstreaker grinned, pushing another ripple through the bond, making Prism gasp this time. “Wonderful, isn’t it?” 

“Very much so,” Prism agreed, a bubble of laughter leaving his vocal processor. “Things are going to work out, won’t they?”

“I think so,” Sunstreaker said, “Don’t worry your processor over it, Prism.”

“Easier said than done.” 

Sunstreaker purred, “I will have distract you then.” 

Prism gasped as a rush of pleasure and lust came over the bond from Sunstreaker. He moaned as his frame lit up with pleasure without being touched at all. 

“You are so lovely Prism when you are like this.” 

Prism blushed and mewled as he was toyed with over the bond. His spark felt like it was swelling with charge inside of his chest. Pulsing with it. “Please, it feels amazing.” 

Sunstreaker pulsed across the bond harder, making the smaller mech gasp and arch against him. “Beautiful.” 

Prism whimpered. “I need you.” 

Sunstreaker’s plates opened, baring his red-gold spark to Prism who quickly followed suit. Prism moaned as their sparks ground against each other. It felt so good! 

Sideswipe yelled from the pilot seat, “You had better block, Sunny. It would look bad if I got distracted and we ended up crashing horribly.”

“Oh, I will,” Sunstreaker gasped, pulsing spark energy at Prism until the mech was whimpering beneath him. 

Prism moaned, arching up to press their sparks closer together. “Please. I n-need---” 

“What do you need?” 

“You. Please.” 

“Hmm, i think i can help you with that then.” 

A powerful surge of charge crackled through his frame and shoved him over the edge of pleasure and he tumbled helm first down the cliff of overload into Sunstreaker’s presence in the bond. 

Prism screamed over and over as Sunstreaker used his spark through each overload before driving him into another one.

Finally he lay limp against Sunstreaker, exhausted to the point he didn’t think he could move if he even needed to. He was sore, but pleasantly so. Despite all of it he wanted more. A little moan escaped his vocalizer. 

“Prism?” Sunstreaker asked, and pulled him close. “Sweetspark?” 

Prism looked up at him groggily, “Sunny?” 

Sunsteraker gently closed Prism’s plates. “Shh, rest Princess. I think I wore you out. Rest and recover your strength. You are going to need it. Sides says he wants his turn when we get back.” 

Prism trembled at the idea of being taken by the other twin like that. “Oh, my.” 

Sunstreaker laughed, “I think you are going to be very worn out for a while, Princess.”

He curled up in Sunstreaker’s arms, feeling dazed even after the shuttle was finally docked. Sunstreaker picked him up, which was just as well. There was no way Prism could have stood. He felt strutless, and lethargic. “Why aren’t you tired?” Prism whined. 

“Practice. Lots of practice,” Sunstreaker smirked. “It will get better in time, I promise.” 

Prism wasn’t sure he believed his bonded in this. “If you say so, Sunny.”

OoOoOoOo

Bulkhead shifted nervously. They were going to get in there and get Miko and her…..sparklings away.

Miko had sparklings. 

Primus that was still a bizarre thought. Miko should be running around, stowing away on missions and rocking out on her guitar. She shouldn't have been forced by a predacon and had his sparklings.

“Ready?” the Seeker asked. 

Bulkhead looked over at the purple and black mech, nodded, “As I’ll ever be.” 

The mech smirked, and moved closer to Bulkhead, he grabbed ahold of him before Bulkhead could protest, and there were a talk wrenching sensation as the mech warped them both over to the Nemesis. 

“Fragg,” Bulkhead hissed as her opened his optics and found the dark halls of the Nemesis surrounding them. “Where....” 

“This way,” Skywarp motioned to him to follow. 

Bulkhead lumbered after the unusual Seeker. Skywarp had a truly unique ability but it had left him with a few quirks. It had been explained to him that everything Skywarp teleported, he fused random bits from where he arrived into his own frame, usually air or dust. But the particles in those had no harm in small amounts.

Skywarp however had been teleporting for a very long time and as the humans had put it, a little crazy now.

Bulkhead followed the Seeker through the dark halls until they came to a large door. 

“They are in there. Read?” Skywarp asked, grinning crazily. 

“Yeah,” Bulkhead said, not sure what he was expecting as he opened the door. It was not the little predacon curled up around...something. 

“Miko?” 

The little predacon growled and raised its helm before pausing, staring at him intently. “Bulk?” 

Bulkhead felt his spark freeze for a moment. “M-miko? Is that you?” 

The small predacon shifted and settled back down on the….whatever it was. “Did you come to see my hatchlings? They are beautiful aren’t they?” 

Bulkhead moved closer, his optics widening as he moved close enough to see what Miko was guarding. “Oh Primus, they are.” 

Miko preened, “I know. They are beautiful. They will be strong brave warriors.” 

Bulkhead shifted, “I’m sure...Miko...we..ah need to go.” 

“You just got here!” 

“No, I mean it isn’t safe here for you or your bitlets.” 

“Get away from my mate! Get away from our nest!” 

Bulkhead wheeled around and jumped back just in time to avoid getting hit by plasma fire from Predaking. “You! You fragger! How dare you! She is a sparkling! How dare you!” 

Bulkhead charged at Predaking, his fist held high and ready to pummel the slag out of Predaking.

Miko shrieked, “Don't fight, what are you doing?” 

“I won’t let this...mech take you away from me,” Predaking roared when he ducked around Bulkheads attack. 

“i wouldn’t bet on it,” Skywarp giggled, warping behind predaking with a loud Vop, he hit the mech upside the helm with a metal bar. He giggled louder as the mech fell to the floor in a heap. “‘kay, lets blow this joint.” 

Miko however left the nest and hurried over to where Predaking lay unconscious. “Predaking! Predaking! Why did you do that? Why did you hurt my mate?” 

“We need to get you out of here. It is not a nice place. We are taking you to a place where you and your….hatchlings will be safe, isn’t that right Skywarp?” 

“Aww, lookit you wittle cuties. Come to uncle Skywarp you wittle darlings!” 

“I’m serious, Miko.” 

“I’m not Miko. Don’t call me that, I’m Flamewar.” 

Bulkhead vented, “Fine, Flamewar then, we need to get you and the bitlets out of here now. They will be safe, I promise.” He reached into his subspace for the metal mesh slings to put the sparklings in. “Please. We don’t have much time.” 

“No! I am not leaving my mate! We are not going to go anywhere with you! You get out!” 

Bulkhead tried to talk to her, Skywarp however was using the slings to load the hatchlings onto his frame. Miko didn’t notice until one of the hatchlings squeep-ed in alarm. 

“Get away from my babies!” 

Skywarp had loaded about half of the hatchlings and teleported away with them before Miko could reach them. Miko howled with rage and wheeled on Bulkhead. “Egg thief! Nest defiler! Get away from me! Get away from my nest!” 

Skywarp grabbed her, hitting the joint where her head and neck joined, she fell limp in his arms. He pushed the offlined Predacon at Bulkhead, and went back to grabbing the rest of the sparklings.

Bulkhead stared, stunned. “Whaaaat did you do to her?” 

“Nothing, just knocked her out. She’ll come around in a few breems. Probably should be outta here before then. Come on.” 

Bulkhead hefted Miko over his shoulder and took the last sling. The bitlets moved around lazily inside, and looked up at him. 

The little bitties chirped and squeaked as they shifted calling out to Miko. “Hurry up. I want to get out of here with Miko and the kids as soon as possible. I want them out of danger before the fighting starts.” 

Skywarp took Bulkhead by the upper arm and began to prepare to teleport back to the Autobot ship when a large form lunged at him. Before he could correct the teleport for just himself, Bulkhead and Miko plus her babies, Predaking and lunged at them- tagging along on the teleporting back to the Autobot ship. 

“Predaking! Call Security someone!”

The predacon whirled around in confusion in the middle of the docking bay. “Where am I?! What have you done to my mate?!?” 

He lunged awkwardly as Bulkhead, just missing him. 

The security crew finally rolled in, followed by Hoist. 

“Get back,” Red Alert yelled. 

“Release my mate! How dare you steal my mate and hatchlings! I will rend you to pieces! Get away from them!” 

Bulkhead moved Miko further away from the Predacon. They would find a place to put her and the sparklings after they were seen by Hoist. He would have preferred First Aid check Miko but he had gone with his brothers to attend to any injuries during the coming battle.

“Release them,” Predaking roared right as Red Alert shot him. A blast of electricity arced across his frame as the Predacon went down like a stone. 

“Do your work, doc, I doubt he is going to be out for long, and I would like him restrained in a cell way before then.”

Hoist moved in, pulling a syringe from his subspace he knelt and stuck it into the offlined bots energon line. 

Predaking barely twitched as he was injected with the sedative. Hoist checked him over and then gestured to two of the security mechs, “Take him down to the holding cells. Bulkhead, Skywarp get the others to the medbay. Put them in private room number 2. I will need to check her over as well as the sparkling before we get them settled in.” 

Bulkhead nodded, carefully shifting his grip on Miko. “We will head there right now.” 

Skywarp crooned to the sleepy sparklings still slung around his frame. “Come one, little ones! Uncle Warp is taking you to see a new place!”

The sparklings trilled at him sleepily, their optics drifting shut. “You are the cutest things,” Skywarp said, and hummed some sort of tune at them, an off-key lullaby. 

Definitely out of his processor. Skywarp still followed him to the medbay. The mech was still talking to the sparklings as they got them settled in the private room. 

Miko began to stirred, her optics narrowing to slits as they opened. 

She leapt off of the table and glared at all of them, “Where am I! Get away from my hatchlings! Where is my nest?! Where is my mate?! Put my hatchlings down!” 

Skywarp began to set the sparklings down on the floor, and the bitties hurried on unsteady peds as well as crawling over to their carrier. Miko brooded her hatchlings beneath her wings and glared at everyone including Bulkhead. “Miko, calm down. You are safe now. Predaking won't hurt you any more. You are back with us again.”

Miko’s armor fluffed up, “Do not call me that, that isn’t my name anymore. That person is dead, and I demand you return my mate to me. NOW!”

“Can’t do that, Miko,” Bulkhead said with a pained expression. 

“You can, and you will,” she hissed, flaring out her wings. 

“No....I really can’t. He’s dangerous, and...frag...he took advantage of you.” 

“He is my mate! The sire of my hatchlings! He should be here with us! Bring him back!”

Bulkhead yelped and dodged as she spat a burst of plasmafire at him. “Bring me my mate! I want my mate! I want my nest! Theif! Abductor!” 

Bulkhead tried to calm Miko, “Miko- er, Flamewar, calm down. We have him down in detention area. He is dangerous. We can’t bring him here.”

“Lies! Stop lying to me. you can give me my mate. I want him now!” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you Miko. You are like my own sparkling,” Bulkhead said. “If...if you calm down I will take you to the detention area where you can see him. I promise.” 

She looked at him warily, and growled, “You will.” 

“However that moment is not now. Hoist still needs to check you and your hatchlings over and then he will go down and examine Predaking and disable his weapons. Then, if he behaves I will consider taking you to see him.” 

“Liar! You said I could see him!” 

Bulkhead turned on the screen on a console and accessed the security feed from the detention area. Predaking lay sprawled on the floor of a cell, still out of it.

Miko trembled, moving closer, “What have you done to him?” 

“He is only in stasis. He was not injured, Miko,” Bulkhead said. 

“How can I believe you? You kidnapped me and my bitlets,” she said trembling. 

“Miko...” 

“Do not call me that. It is not my designation.” 

“Yes, it is. It is your human name.” 

“I am not human anymore! My name is Flamewar! You will call me that! Bring me to my mate! You stole me from my nest, grabbed my hatchlings and attacked my mate!” 

“He is not your mate! He stole you! He stole all three of you! He /ate// Magnus’ servo!”

She huffed loudly, “My mate would only have done something like that if the other mech deserved it. I do not know this Magnus, but he could not be a good mech.” 

“Frag, how can you even say that? That monster kidnapped you! Raf and Jack were hurt. Do you not understand what they have done? Frag, Miko.” 

“Flamewar. It’s Flamewar.” 

“Your name is Miko. Not Flamewar. You are Miko. You stowed away with me on my missions. You fought insecticons, and beat up Starscream. You fought with me and Jackie.” 

“I am Flamewar now! These are my hatchlings and he is our mate! Bring him to us or us to him.”

Bulkhead vented loudly, there was no getting through to her. “Fine, Flamewar. Fine. I will bring you to him after you have been looked over. I will fix this for you somehow. I only--I only want you to be safe.” 

“I was safe,” she said plaintively. 

“No. You really were not.” Bulkhead turned as Hoist came into the room.

“Hello, Bulkhead said you need looked over? Could you please transform and get onto the berth?” 

Miko growled at Hoist, “Get away from my hatchlings, thief! You won’t take them from me! They are mine!” 

She shot a blast of plasma fire at the medic and herded her hatchlings to the far side of the berth, so it was between her and the rest of the room. “Stay away! I demand someone bring me my nest!” 

“We...cannot do that. It is still aboard the Nemesis. We could bring you stuff to make a new one perhaps?”

Miko grumbled, “It was the perfect nest. I can’t believe you stole me away. Took my mate. Disturbed my hatchlings. This is unacceptable.” 

“We were only trying to do the right thing, to keep you safe. You know I love you like my own sparkling,” Bulkhead said looking down. “The thought of losing you...we thought you had died.” 

Miko sighed, pulling her fledglings close. 

“So you say. Instead you steal /my// sparklings and my mate, you drug me and abduct me to this strange place. Forgive me if I do not trust you.” 

Bulkhead sighed, when she put it like that it did sound bad. “Please Mik-Flamewar. Let Hoist scan you and the sparklings. We just want to make sure that they are fine.” 

“Ratchet and Weld scanned them many times since they hatched! They are fine, unless you did something to them!”

Bulkhead’s optics widened, “No Mi-Flamewar. I would never do that. I would never hurt you or them. I---I am sorry I have upset you.” He shifted, frowning as he watched Miko watch him. She acted nothing like the girl he knew, and it broke his spark. 

Miko watched him, optics narrowing and gauging his reaction. “You really are sorry, aren’t you?”

“I am.” 

“I still don’t trust you. Your medic may scan me though. If you, he or anyone else come near my hatchlings, I will kill him.” 

Bulkhead felt his spark break as he watched Miko nuzzle her sparklings and then move slightly away from them. “Hurry up and scan me medic. I need to feed the sparklings and that will be hard enough without my mate here!” 

Feed? He could help with that, surely. He could get bottles of energon made up for the little beasts- er sparklings. He was surprised, they were Miko’s sparklings he should love them. But they were also proof of what Predaking had….done.

Hoist moved over to her cautiously scanner in hand. He jacked in, looking at the readings before nodding, “She is very healthy. You probably need to increase your intake of cybertronium though. The sparklings leached a small percentage from your frame. Not a dangerous amount, but...it is something that will need to be corrected sooner rather than later.” 

Miko watched him with narrowed optics, “Fine. Are you done?” 

“I am,” Hoist said, moving away from her.

Miko huffed, stretching out on the berth. The sparklings crawled over to her, apparently eager to feed. 

Bulkhead moved forward to offer to help get their energon bottles ready, when he heard the steady sloshing of fluids and the nursing of sparklings. He blinked and saw Hoist shifting to one side. He followed and blinked hard in surprise. The sparklings were latching on to small nubs on Miko’s belly and nursing energon from them.

Predacons could do that?!

It seemed so….organic. A few of the sparklings whimpered and nosed at their siblings trying to get a nub to feed. There were none open though and the sound make Bulkhead’s spark hurt.

“Do---do you want us to help feed them?” Bulkhead asked, 

Miko glared, looking the mechs up and down. “If you hurt them I will offline you.”

“I wouldn't hurt them. None of us would. Sparklings are Primus’ gift.” 

She sniffed, “Fine. You may help, but I am watching you.” 

Bulkhead felt relieved. He had not expected her to actually allow them to. 

Hoist moved to to get bottles for the sparklings while Bulkhead moved towards Miko and her sparklings. 

The sparklings were so tiny when he was this close to them. They seemed larger when they were moving and bouncing around. He leaned forward and picked one of them up and he was amazed at how small it was.

It thrashed in his grip and cried as it was taken from Miko and its siblings. Bulkhead knew that Miko was probably staring at him and her sparkling the entire time.

Hoist pressed a bottle into his free hand, and the sparkling latched onto the feeding tube as soon as it was offered. It calmed down immediately, and purred contentedly. 

Bulkhead took the time to examine the little being. It looked so much like Miko in form. Its tail curled around his arm, squeezing. It wasn’t like any sparkling he had encountered before, aside from its size. 

Miko stared. “I still don’t trust you.” 

“No, I know. But you will again, eventually,” Bulkhead said, trying not to feel hurt by the statement. 

“Maybe,” she said, grumbling. “Maybe not.” 

Bulkhead sighed, at least she was trusting him enough to let him be this close and to hold her sparklings. She didn't trust Hoist to do that much, so she at least trusted him more than she did the others.

Once the sparking had finished its bottle, he set it back down with the others and grabbed another one that was cheeping its hunger. Hoist passed him another bottle and he began to feed that one as well. It did not take all that long, and it was purring with its tail wrapped around his wrist. 

Hoist had moved closer and scanned each of the sparklings as best as he could. He wondered how much Hoist really knew about Predacons.

The sparkling purred sleepily, and watched him with half-lidded optics. They were hazy...and blue. It made Bulkhead’s spark flip-flop under his chestplates. He wondered what they would be like when they could finally communicate. A bit reluctantly he placed it back against Miko where it fell into recharge almost instantly. He picked up the last one that was still crying to be fed. It was a bit smaller than the others, and looked up at him with gold optics. 

He bit back a growl at the sight of the little sparkling that looked so much like Predaking and he briefly had an urge to smash the little monster to the ground. He froze, horrified at the very thought of it. What was wrong with him? 

Even if this was Predaking’s sparkling, it was also Miko’s. It was an innocent sparkling, who he had just thought about offlining. As soon as the sparkling had drained its bottle, he had rushed to put it back with the others.

Miko curled around the bitlets, watching Bulkhead, “I want my nest now.”

Bulkhead shook himself mentally, his hands gripping into fists, “Yeah, I will see about that, Miko.” He was still feeling shaken by his reaction to the sparkling. “I think we can get you something set up. Just give me a bit. I have to talk to Prowl, and Prime.” 

“You should never have taken me from my nest. It was perfect.” 

Bulkhead sighed, “I couldn't leave you there.” 

“So you keep saying.”

OoOoOoOo

Thundercracker waited impatiently with the rest of the strike team. He had been briefed that he would be assisting with the most dangerous part of the initial rescue: getting one of the turned humans out of Megatron’s personal quarters.

He shuddered at the thought of what they were going to find in there. Megatron was violent and prone to fierce rages. There might not be much left of the poor mech.

“Ready?” Lightfoot asked, as he opened up the Spacebridge. 

“As I will ever be,” Thundercracker said, already going over the map of the Nemesis in his processor. They were dropping him close, but not directly into Megatron’s quarters. 

He stepped through the bridge and into a deserted hallway. The alarms had not been sounded yet, miraculously. 

It took him a moment to orientate himself, and then he was moving down the hallway towards his destination. 

He had been given a very good map that apparently one of the symbiotes from the carrier mech had scouted out. He cautiously checked each intersection and corridor to make certain he was not seen. However as he neared his destination there was a faint swoosh as a door opened right next to him. 

He turned and froze in shock at the sight of the traitor Starscream staring at him in equal shock.

“T-t-thundercracker, what are you doing here?” Starscream asked, skittering back, his optics going comically wide. 

“I could ask you the same, Starscream. I had hope you had deactivated long ago.” 

“How are you here. This is not possible. There has been no Decepticon ship---there has---” understanding lit in Starscream’s optics and he tried to scramble away. The old jet was quick, but Thundercracker was quicker. His hand shot out grabbing a wing and bending. 

“As much as I would like to end you now I have more pressing matters.” 

With that, he slammed Starscream’s helm against the wall as hard as he could. repeating it several times to make sure that he would stay down. “I will come back and deal with you later, traitor.” 

Starscream fell limp on the ground when he finally let go. He wanted nothing more than to kill the pathetic scum right then and there but he had another life to save. He would return later and avenge Windsurge and his family. He looked down at the traitor for a long moment, quivering with barely concealed rage. It had been vorns since their trine bond had withered to nothing at all, and longer still since he had realized that Starscream had been responsible for the death of his former trinemate and co-ruler. 

Even so. The wound was still fresh. It took all of his strength to walk away, but he did. He wouldn’t let that mech be responsible for another death. Not that day, and not if Thundercracker could prevent it. He finally reached his destination. It took him longer than he had anticipated to crack the lock on the door, but finally the door slid open.

The room was dim, and a small grounder was curled up on the berth. Even from far away his resemblance to the Prime was uncanny. 

The small mech looked at him and flinched, curling up into a small ball on the berth and whimpering softly. The poor thing. How long had been in here, alone except for a monster?

He moved closer, trying to be as non-threatening as he could. He didn’t want to frighten the little mech at all. But that seemed impossible, with the tiny mech shifting away from him. It did however draw his attention to a faint clinking sound that he soon realized was a chain. A chain that ran from his ankle to the berth. 

Thundercracker’s optics widened, he had stowed an arc cutter, but had hoped not to use it. 

The mech made a noise of distress, scooting as far away as he could manage and still be on the berth, dragging the chain along with him. 

“I’m Thundercracker, Optimus Prime sent me to get you out of here. Do you understand?” 

The mech looked at him, the confused look unmistakable. 

“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” the Seeker said moving close enough to touch the mech. 

The mech whimpered and shifted away from his touch as though it burned him. “Take it easy. I am here to help you. I am getting you out of here.” 

He tried to think of some of the names of the other mechs onboard, “I am taking you to...to...Ratchet. You are going to be safe with Ratchet alright? Hold still while I cut you loose.” 

A high pitched whine sounded from behind him, and he ducked instinctively. He spun around and growled, Megatron! 

“So Orion! You betray me again!” 

The shot had graze the little mech, sending him tumbling to the floor. He hit it hard, screaming in pain. Thundercracker charged Megatron, hitting him before the mech had a chance to raise his cannon and fire again. The mech roared angrily, screaming. 

“That is not Orion you monster,” Thundercracker growled, tearing at the mech. He clawed at the warlord, finding purchase in the mech chest seams he ripped it away, baring the circuitry beneath. 

Megatron roared and broke away from him, when there came a blare over the ships communication system: “Autobots are attacking! Autobot are attacking! All hands to battle stations! Lord Megatron to the bridge please.”

Megatron gave Thundercracker a glare and swept out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Thundercracker ran to the smaller mech and gave him a cursory look over. He was curled up and whimpering, as well as appearing to be losing a lot of fluids. “Hang on. I will get you out of here.”

Thundercracker got on his eternal comm, ::I need a groundbridge now, to these coordinates,:: he pinged his location to Lightfoot and gather the mech into his arms as he moved through the gate. He went through at a run, already comming the medbay as he rushed to get the mech there in time. He could feel the mech’s life fluids running out as he ran. They left a trail through the ship, but he didn’t slow down until he was pushing through the doors and placing him on the closest berth. 

He ignored the creature laying on a nearby berth with a litter of smaller creatures, and then set the small mech down on an empty berth. Hoist bustled over and began to scan the little mech. “What happened?” 

“Megatron showed up as I was cutting him free. He managed to graze him with his fusion cannon. He is losing a lot of fluids.” 

Hoist continued to scan while his assistants ran around getting the small mech attached to an energon drip and began to clean his wounds. “He is also carrying, but not for much longer.” 

“What?!” 

“He is carrying but the fluid loss and shock from the blast has destabilized the sparkling. He is going to lose it.”

Hoist shook his helm, “I’ve seen this happen to many times. Once the sparking starts to detach itself from the spark it will dissipate. I wish there was something we could do to half it, but...there is not. He should never have been carrying to begin with. His spark is...barely mature. He probably should not have even been transferred into an adult frame yet.” 

Thundercracker watched in horror as the little mech began to come back online. A cry left the little mechs lips.

“My sparkling, I can’t feel it,” the mech sobbed. His voice cracking, and spitting static as if it had not been used in a long time. 

Hoist put a gentle servo on his helm, “I am sorry. It is gone.” 

He turned to his assistant, “Sedate him. I am going to have to begin repairs if he is going to stabilize.” 

Hoist looked back at the little mech, “What is your name?” 

The smaller mech trembled and shook, “He.../he// always called me Orion.” 

Thundercracker shook with fury. How could Megatron do such a thing? Was he truly mad? 

“Well, what do you call yourself?” 

“...Copy. I am Copy.”

Thundercracker look down at the mech, watching him even after his optics closed, and Hoist began to work on him. This poor mech did not deserve the abuse that Megatron had obviously dished out. 

“We’re gonna need some room,” Hoist said. “You can wait over there if you need to.” Hoist nodded towards the line of chairs on the other end of the medbay.

Thundercracker frowned, he did not want to leave the little mech...Copy, but Hoist had a point.

OoOoOoOo

Ratchet paced in his cell. It should be anytime now. Soon the rescue team would arrive and get him out of here. Then he could go and get Raf, well Weld as he now called himself. It was a good name for a medic he supposed and Weld was showing great promise as a medic.

He just had to get him away from Soundwave. 

He looked up at the sound of pedsteps coming down the hall. “Hey, doc! Heard yah needed a little help?” 

“Wheeljack!” 

“Doctor.” 

“Ultra Magnus!” 

Wheeljack produced a lock pick, grinning as he picked the cell door and finally swung it open, “TIme ta’ go, doc.” 

“I need to go get Raf. I can’t leave him here.”

“Do you know where he is being kept?” Ultra Magnus asked, and frowned as the alarms started to blare. 

“Yes, I know.” Ratchet said, not waiting for an answer. He turned and hurried out of the cellblock, making a beeline for Soundwave’s quarters. 

Pandemonium filled the corridors, alarms blaring and the comm system directing troops to various areas. Ratchet took advantage of the chaos and confusion to hurry down to the quarters that he knew Soundwave resided in. 

He trigger the door and scowled at the sight of the room in disarray. If Soundwave and Weld were not here….

Realization hit him hard, and he ran past a confused Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus for the rear medical bay. He would not let Soundwave do what he suspected the silent mech was attempting to do.

“Where are we going,” Wheeljack asked in confusion as he ran beside Ratchet. 

“The lower level medbay. Frag. I hope we aren’t too late. He’s going...I saw something I wasn’t supposed to a few sols ago. Plans for Weld’s new frame.” 

“I don’t understand,” Ultra Magnus said even as Wheeljack’s optics lit up with realization and horror. 

“He wants to make Raf one of his symbiote,” Ratchet snapped as he tried to open the door to the medbay. 

“Here, let me, do.” Wheeljack said. 

Wheeljack deftly hacked the door controls and the door slid open to reveal a struggling Weld who was being held down on a med-berth by Soundwave. “Get away from him!” 

Soundwave looked over his shoulder, then deployed Laserbeak at them. The drone began to fire at them, trying to drive them out of the med-bay.”Go Ratchet! Magnus and I got this tin-foil turkey!”

Ratchet charged at Soundwave and rammed him from behind. As soon as Soundwave’s grip loosened, Weld lept from the table and ran to Wheeljack.

Wheeljack pushed the small bot behind him, growling. 

Weld whimpered, and looked past Wheeljack, his optics wide and full of terror. “Don’t let him get me. Please don't let him get to me.” 

Ratchet grappled with the mech for a moment before pushing him away. “Run, Primus damn it, Run. Get him out of here, Wheeljack.”

Wheeljack nodded and scooped up the small mech. “Hang on, kiddo. We’re getting out of here!” 

Magnus moved to provide cover fire and Ratchet continued to grapple with Soundwave, determined to give them as much time to flee as he could before he called for a bridge of his own. 

Weld was whimpering as Wheeljack ran with him, filling the wrecker with added rage and fear for what had happened to Miko.

The kid was small, and much lighter than he was expecting, ::I need a groundbridge, Lightfoot,:: he called over the comm using the frequency the cassette bots that freed him had given him. Weld clung to him, hiding his face against Wheeljack’s neck cording. his fingers dug into the space between his armour, holding on with a death grip. The bridge opened up, spilling green light into the hallway. Wheeljack dashed through it, not hesitating for a moment. 

As soon as he was through, he sprinted for the med-bay. He could feel the little mech trembling still as he rushed. He paused when he got to the med-bay. Hoist was wheeling another mech into a private room, and there was a predacon laying on another med-berth. 

He was not letting Raf anywhere near the creature! 

Then he noticed that Bulkhead was sitting next to it. “Bulk? What are you doing by that beast?!” 

Bulk looked up, “Jackie!”

“Yeah, Bulk, it’s me. So...what are yah doin’?” He held on tightly to Raf, stroking the mechling’s backstrut until he finally began to relax his death grip. 

“This is Miko, Jackie.” 

Wheeljack blinked. Ratchet had told him she was a predacon, but it had never really sank in. 

“Stop calling me that,” the pradacon in question hissed, “It’s Flamewar. Why are you holding Weld? What have you done to him?” 

“Weld? Who is Weld? Miko is that you?” 

The predacon growled, “My name is Flamewar! That is Weld in your arms! What have you done to him!”

Raf shifted in his arms, “Flamewar? What are you doing here?! Are your hatchlings okay? Where is your mate?” 

Flamewar growled, “Ask them why we are here and what they have done with my mate!”

Raf wiggled in Wheeljack’s arms until the mech finally put him down, but he didn’t move away, “Maybe you were in danger then,” he shook. “Soundwave tried to hurt me. He was...he was going to---to put me in another frame.” 

Flamewar’s wings flared up, “What? Are you wounded? I will tear him apart.” 

The noise she made woke the fledglings around her. Their optics popped open, lazily glowing in the shadow she cast. The chirps started nearly immediately, and cause Wheeljack to skitter back, pulling Raf with him. He pushed the smaller bot behind him. “What the frack is that?” 

Weld however ducked past him and hurried over to Flamewar. “Oh, look at you little guys! You have gotten so big already! Oh, Flamewar! They are so perfect! You must be so proud!” 

Flamewar purred and nuzzled Weld worriedly, “You are alright? He did not hurt you?” 

“Just scared me for the most part. He had been so nice before! Are the hatchlings all okay? Have you and Predaking started to pick names yet?”

“A few,” she said, noticing the change in subject. Her claws skittered over Weld’s plating, examining him for damage. “Are you sure you are not hurt.” 

“I’m fine. Just shaken up. He...tried to strap me to a medberth. He had the frame sitting out and ready. I think the attack made him panic. I guess.” Weld shivered. “I don’t understand why he would do that to me.” 

“Kid, that mech does that to any bot that catches his fancy. Sadly you weren’t the first, it’s how he gets his symbiotes,” Wheeljack said. 

“T-the ones he l-lost? Rumble and F-frenzy?” 

“I’m sure of it.” 

“I am glad that Ratchet was able to save me. Is he back yet? Is he okay?” 

“I am, Raf. The more important question is are you okay?”

Weld, Wheeljack and Bulkhead turned to see Ratchet striding into the medbay. As soon as everyone realised who had just walked in, everything stopped. Everyone stared at Ratchet in shocked awe. 

“Ratchet! You are alright! Thank you. You were right about Soundwave. I’m sorry.” Weld ran over throwing his arms around Ratchet, who hugged him back tightly. 

“I’m fine. We...took care of him. He won’t be bothering you again. I promise,” Ratchet said. 

Weld looked up, optics widening in surprise, “Took care of him? You offlined him, didn’t you?” He look past Ratchet to where Ultra Magnus stood in the doorway, mech fluid smeared across his frame. 

“He was offlined,” Magnus rumbled. 

Weld sagged in relief against Ratchet, hiding his face against the mech’s plating until suddenly he stiffened. “D-did anyone get Copy?”

“Hoist is with him now,” Bulkhead said. 

“Is, is he okay? Is his sparkling?” 

Bulkhead, Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus froze and stared at Weld in shock. “S-sparkling? You mean that he, that Megs- Oh Primus!” Wheeljack looked like he was about to lock up his processor and Bulkhead helped steady him, even though he looked just as bad. 

“Yes. Jack is carrying, and it is Megatron’s.”

“Was carrying,” Thundercracker said, stepping into the room. “He...was hit by Megatron’s fusion cannon when I was getting him out.” 

Ratchet and the others looked over to the large Seeker standing in the doorway in confusion. “Who are you?” Ratchet snapped.

“He’s like that jerk that brought me in here,” Miko said. 

“That would be Skywarp, and no. I’m really not like him,” there was a trace of amusement in his tone. “Hoist is stabilizing the mech now. He should pull through, but sadly he could not save the sparkling.” 

Weld looked so sad. “Poor Copy. He must be so upset to lose the sparkling like that! It was so young!” 

Ratchet carefully moved to where Weld and Flamewar were. “I know, Weld. You and Mik- Flamewar will need to help him recover from his loss.” 

Flamewar brooded her hatchlings beneath her wings. “I do not know what I would do if I lost a sparkling like that. It was bad enough when my egg was stolen!”

Ratchet nodded, “I can imagine that it was was upsetting, but you got it back. I think...Jack---Copy will need a lot of help getting over it.” 

“I’m not sure he wanted it,” Weld said. “He was very distressed about the whole thing. But I don’t think he would have wanted it to die like that either.” 

Thundercracker moved closer, curious over their reactions, “Were the three of you close?”

Ratchet looked at Thundercracker, “They were best friends before they became Cybertronian. They have also suffered at the servos of the Decepticons. They are understandably close.” 

Weld snuggled against Ratchet trustingly, “Ratchet helped keep us safe. He saved us.” 

Ratchet looked down at Weld and sighed, “Not enough. I didn’t do enough for you. I am so sorry.”

Weld looked up at him, “You did the best you could. I survived...and the rest...it will fade with time.”

Ratchet looked down at him, not sure that Weld was entirely correct. “We shall see.”

Thundercracker tilted his head to the side as if listening to an internal comm. “You guys might want to move to one of the private rooms. They are bringing wounded in from the battle in a few kliks.”

“I’ll stay and help then,” Ratchet said talking to the mech. “I’m sure Hoist can use my help.”

Thundercracker nodded, “Warp will be bringing the medics from the other ships in the fleet here. It’s a big enough infirmary that it would be more efficient to triage everyone here.”

Ratchet frowned, “Is the battle going badly?” 

“No, Prowl said that the ‘cons routed and are holed up in the lower levels and the bridge. They have Megatron cornered, but they have not been able to capture him.” 

“Good. Now, let’s get these two into private rooms. Flamewar, will you allow me and Weld to help you move your hatchlings into a more private area? It would be more secure and you could guard them better there. I will also look to get you a few meshes to shred and mold to form a small nest for the time being.” 

Flamewar sighed, “Very well. Try not to upset them more than they already are.”

Weld smiled, “Of course. We will be as gentle and careful as possible.”

“A new nest does sound good. May my mate be brought to us soon?”

“As soon as we can,” Ratchet said. “Probably not until after the battle.” 

Flamewar pouted, “Fine. I want to see him though. As soon as I can. He is mine.” 

Ratchet nodded, knowing better than to argue at this point. He picked up three of the fledglings, and was relieved when Thundercracker left and came back with a pile of mesh.

“This should work for now,” he said. 

Flamewar inspected them, humming. “For now.” 

Ratchet laughed, “We will try and bring your proper nest over when the battle calms down. Then you can get settled in the quarters we’re arranging for you and your hatchlings.” 

“And my mate. Right? Why do all of you pause and hesitate when it comes to my mate?”

Ratchet looked back at the others in the main medbay. “Your mate, while being very good to you, has been our enemy in the past. We are unsure if it was because he was unaware he had other options or if he hates us as many Decepticons do. We don’t want to take chances with the others on this ship or with you and your hatchlings.”

She huffed, “He will do as I tell him to do. He is my mate, and he should be with me.”

Ratchet grunted, “We’ll see.”

Flamewar arranged the mesh to her liking, and tucked the hatchlings around her as they were brought to her, curling around them. “I want him here with me.” 

“I’m sure you will see him soon,” Weld said. He climbed on the berth in the corner of the room and watched Flamewar settling on the mesh and padding on the floor. 

“I had better, or I will find him myself! My hatchlings need their sire!” 

Wheeljack and Bulkhead looked in at the two of them from the doorway. “Why do you want that creature?” 

Flamewar scowled at Bulkhead, “He is my mate! His place is with me and our hatchlings! he should not be away from us! He should be helping me care for the hatchlings and rebuild the nest since you took us from the one we had already made!”

Wheeljack stared, “You are joking, right? He’s a Con. They aren’t any good.” 

Flamewar hissed at him, “He is my mate. Do not talk about him like that.” 

“She has a point,” Weld said. “He is her mate. He will do as she asks if only to make her happy.” 

“You expect me to believe she had Predaking wrapped around her little claw? I can’t see how that is possible.” 

Weld made a snorting noise. “Clearly you have never seen them together.” 

Bulkhead looked at Weld in surprise, “You don’t actually expect us to believe that-” 

“Believe or don’t it is the truth. Now move out of my way, Bulkhead!” Ratchet pushed past Wheeljack and Bulkhead with another load of meshes. He set two next to Weld and then dropped the rest next to Flamewar. 

“Here are some more meshes for your new nest. I will try to talk to them about getting...your mate here. It might take a while so I will arrange for you to be able to speak through the screen in here.”

Flamewar huffed, “Fine. I want him here as soon as possible. He is mine,” she grumbled, “No one has any right to take him from me.” 

Wheeljack and Bulkhead both stared, and looked as if they could not believe what they were hearing from Flamewar or Ratchet.

“Try not to upset yourself, it will only stress the sparklings out,” Ratchet admonished. 

“He should be here though. His place is with me and the hatchlings. It is not right for him to be away from us like this!”

“Try to stay calm, Flamewar. You need to stay relaxed for the sake of your sparklings. I will talk to them about letting Predaking be with you here.” 

“Good! They will say yes, or I will scorch their skidplates!”

Ratchet shook his helm, he had little doubt that she would do just that. 

“Yah can’t be serious, doc,” Wheeljack snapped. “How could you even think of freeing that beast. He is dangerous!” 

Miko growled behind him, getting louder by the moment. 

“Wheeljack, for the love of Primus will you shut your vocalizer? You are antagonizing her!” 

“He’s got a point, Jackie,” Bulkhead said. 

“I don’t care. She deserves better!” 

Miko settled at that, “Hmph! My mate is fine. You act like a grumpy creator! You….you aren’t my creator are you?” 

Bulkhead looked shocked at her question, not knowing how to answer such a question. Ratchet luckily stepped in and saved him. “He is not your creator, Flamewar. However, your creators put you in his care, they entrusted him with you. It is why we worked so hard to get you free.” 

“Is that why you came for me Ratchet?” Weld asked with an innocent and naive look on his faceplates.

Ratchet opened his mouth, and shut it abruptly. “I do care for you, and I did watch over you...before. You are like a creation to me.” 

Weld nodded, “I thought so. I had hoped so.” His face crumbled, a look of anguish overcoming his features. “I had thought Soundwave cared for me as well.” 

Ratchet ducked his helm, he didn’t know what to say about that to make it any better. “I am sorry.” 

“So am I,” Weld quivered. 

Ratchet moved to Weld’s side and drew him against his chestplates. Weld latched on and began to weep uncontrollably. “Shh, you are safe now. Let it out. It’s okay, you are safe. No one will ever hurt you like that ever again. I will kill them before I let anyone touch you like that again.” 

Weld clung tighter and continued to sob. Flamewar watched him for a long time, then curled around her nest and tucked her wings over it protectively. She would let no one take a hatchling from her again. She had no mate to watch over her and the nest while she rested so she would not be able to fully recharge. She would protect her nest.

She didn’t trust any of them fully. Not really. Not while her mate was gone and they were the ones that had stolen him away. She felt very sorry for Weld. That was true enough, but he was far too trusting. Even she could see that. 

Eventually he dried his optics and Ratchet picked up the exhausted little mech, holding him close until he fell into recharge. Flamewar watched the mech as he finally tucked Weld into the berth in the corner, pulling several mesh around him. “Watch over him for me, Flamewar.” 

“I will,” she said, and watched the three mechs finally leave, pushing the door shut behind them. 

Weld shifted on the berth uneasily in his recharge and Flamewar felt pity for the little mech. He had had a rough time of it from what she had heard from her mate. 

Her mate. 

She hoped he was okay. She and their hatchlings needed him.

OoOoOoOo

Predaking growled as he began to online. He had been doing something important… very important……

His mate! Their nest! Raided! Stolen! His nose twitched and his optics flared online as he realised he could not smell his mate or the hatchlings!

There were so many warnings that flipped across his HUD. His weapon systems offlined. He felt sluggish. He looked about, growling loudly. He was in a cell. A **PRISONER**! 

He tried to climb to his feet, but his peds did not want to hold him up. He felt wobbly, and off balance. 

He had to protect his mate and their hatchlings! It was his duty! He was supposed to protect them! “WHERE IS MY MATE! WHERE HAVE YOU BROUGHT ME! I WILL REND YOU TO SHREDS IF YOU DO NOT BRING ME MY MATE AND OUR EGGS!” 

“Shut up in there before we shock you again!” 

A bright golden mech was glaring at him. “RELEASE ME!” 

The mech scowled at him. “Believe me, I wish I could. If you weren’t here, I wouldn't have to be here. I could be with my twin and our new mate. But no! Guard the lizard, Sunstreaker!” 

Pradaking hissed at the golden coloured mech, “I am no lizard,” his tail lashed out, hitting the bars hard, if clumsily. 

“Sure look like one to me,” Sunstreak said dismissively. “A beast.” 

Predaking growl and transformed, throwing himself at the bars. “I want my mate and out eggs.” 

“Tough. I’m not giving you scrap. It’s your fault I have to be away from my mate.” Sunstreaker huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you really think I want to be here babysitting your aft. Not likely. If I had my way we would have shot you while they had you down in the medbay.”

Predaking growled. If this mech dared to suggest shooting him, what had he done to his defenseless mate and their hatchlings? Flamewar was a brave and worthy femme but she was still so very small. She would have been no match for a mech of this size. 

“What have you done with my mate? If you have harmed her or our hatchlings I will end you and your mate!” 

The golden mech slowly turned his helm to glare at Predaking with a steely glare that a predacon would have been proud of. “Do not threaten my mate. Ever.”

Predaking glared back, “Where is my mate, welp.” 

“You are stupid if you think we would hurt a carrying femme. Even one as odd as the one Bulkhead brought in. She is fine, and in the medbay. Now, will you shut up about it? I’m tired of hearing your bellowing.” 

Predaking huffed, “I will not allow your kind to steal my sparklings and my mate. I will get them back.” 

“I don't care two scraps what you do. You won’t be doing it on my shift though, I can guarantee it.” 

“Don’t be so sure. I will be free of here eventually.” 

“Eventually is later. after my shift, I don’t care unless you threaten me or mine. Got it lizard aft?”

Predaking snarled at such blatant disrespect. “You will pay for keeping me from my hatchlings and my mate! I demand you take me to them!” 

“And I demand you shut the slag up. You are staying in your nice little cage.”

“If I were free I would melt you to molten slag.”

Sunstreaker snorted, “I would like to see you try, beast. I’m not so easily killed as that.” 

“Mech, your kind is weak.” 

Sunstreaker glared, “You don’t know what you are even talking about.”

“You are nothing but hatchling thieves and mate stealers. Too weak to get your own so you must steal from others. Your kind is vile,” Predaking growled. 

“Like you are one to talk! You bit off Magnus’ servo, stole the human sparklings and forced yourself on them when they ended up Cybretonian! You are nothing but a monster! A vile beast!

Predaking’s armour puffed up aggressively, “I never forced my mate. I would not do that. She is---I did not do that. I love her.” 

Sunstreaker blinked at the mech, his mouth opening. he did not even know what to say to that. “She is a child. Ratchet said so.” 

“She is not. Her spark would not have carried so many sparklings to term if that were the case. They would have been sickly.” 

“She might have been close to being an adult but she was still a youngling! And you sparked her with your vile lusts!” 

Predaking roared, “Lies! Vicious lies! She would not have smell of heat if she was youngling!”

“Heat? What the frag are you talking abou-” 

The yellow mech was stopped from whatever he was about to say but the arrival of a small mech with an energon cube. The little mech was a pretty little thing he noticed. “Sunny? I brought you a cube.”

“Prism, you shouldn’t be down here, it’s not safe.” 

Prism’s optics widened and he stared past Sunstreaker to the mech in the cage. “He is very big. I wasn’t expecting that. Roddy said he seen the femme come in, and she was small. He also said he’d never seen so many sparklings in one place before.” 

“Prism,” Sunstreaker said, looking from Prism to the mech and back, “You really shouldn't’ be here.” 

Prism whimpered, “But I missed you. My spark aches.” 

Sunstreaker moved to Prism and led him to the chair by the security desk. “I miss you as well, Princess. I want you to be safe though and you are not safe here.” 

Prism looked up at him with huge optics. “Are you safe here? I don’t want to lose you so soon after we finally bonded.” 

Predaking huffed in his cell, “And you accuse me of taking a youngling? That mech is a mere sparkling!”

Prism stiffened, “I’m not a sparkling. I had my finally upgrade.”

Predaking watched the mech and smirked, “What for a whole orn? What a small thing you are. Almost as pretty as a femme.” 

Prism sputtered, “That is n-none of your business.” 

“It is when your mate accuses me of taking my own mate by force. I would never hurt her, and she never would have went into heat if she was a youngling. It does not work like that.” 

Prism wrinkled his brows, “Heat? What are you even talking about?” 

Predaking gave Sunstreaker a superior look, “You mated with a mech so young he does not know of the mating heat? You are a lecherous pervert! Preying on a mere hatchling like that!” 

Sunstreaker gave Predaking an unimpressed look. “You are the one who raped a sparkling. Prism chose to be with me and is an adult.” 

“If he is an adult then how does he not know of heat?”

Sunstreaker scowled at the mech, “We don't go through a heat cycle. We are not beasts.” 

Predaking stared at him, “How...” 

“I’m not explaining cybernetic biology to you. If you want to know something like that ask a medic.” 

Predaking growled, “You are lying, surely? How would you have bitlets without a heat cycle?” 

Prism’s cheek plates blushed bright red. 

“We do just fine without whatever a heat cycle is.” Sunstreaker drew Prism behind him protectively.

“Why is your mate changing color? There is nothing that color for him to blend in with.” 

Prism turned a deeper red and ducked his helm behind Sunstreaker. “Stop looking at my mate, beast! He is none of your concern! Prism, go ahead and head back home. I will see you when my shift is over.”

Prism’s doorwings drooped, “If that is what you want, Sunstreaker.” 

“It isn’t what I want, but we both know this is not a good place for you to be.” He turned away from Predaking, and face Prism. “I want you safe. Besides if Mirage knows you are hanging about the brig I will never hear the end of it.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to Prism’s chevron. “I’ll be home in a joor. It will be there before you even know it.” 

Prism ducked his helm and sneaked a peek at Predaking again, before looking back up at Sunstreaker. “Just be careful. I don’t trust him at all.” 

Predaking casually turned his back to the pair and Prism took advantage of that to head towards the door. However as he passed before the cell, Predaking’s tail lashed out and curled around Prism’s waist dragging him against the bars where he grabbed the small mech. 

“Now, take me to my mate, and I will release yours.” 

Prism squealed as the mech’s tail tightened around him. Predaking’s claws held him tight. “Sunny!”

Sunstreaker froze, optics darkening with rage, “Let my mate go!”

“Not until you bring my mate to me,” he growled, his grip tightening, making little dents in Prism’s armour. “Do it now. I do not want to hurt a carrying mech, but I will if you force my hand.” 

Prism froze, “C-carrying? But, but I’m not-” 

Predaking growled lowly, “Do not try to lie to me! I can smell it on you! Now take me to my mate and hatchlings and I will release your mate and eggs.” 

Sunstreaker’s optics had gone white with rage and gotten lighter at the words ‘carrying’. “Let him go, right now!” 

Predaking tightened his grip and pulled Prism against the bars as Jazz walked in and froze at the sight before him. Before anyone could react, Jazz had tossed a dart at Predaking and saw it go deep inside a fuel line causing him to pass out. Prism scrambled away from the predacon and cowered by Sunstreaker’s side. “Sunny!” 

Sunstreaker wrapped his arms around him protectively. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” 

Prism trembled in his arms, “I-I was so scared!”

“Prism, what the frag are you even doing down here?” Jazz snapped, making the mech shake harder. 

“I-I just wanted to see Sunny,” he burst into tears. “He said I was carrying.” He cried harder even as Sunstreaker pulled the small mech against him. 

“I want to take him to the medbay. Please! What if the beast was right,” Sunstreaker whispered, sounding distraught. 

Jazz glared, “Sunstreaker! You have a job to do.” 

“Don’t try to tell me that would not go with Prowl if you found out he might be carrying!” 

Jazz’s look softened. “Then I won’t. Fine. Go take him to the medbay. You have a half joor. Then get your aft back here for the rest of your shift!” 

Sunstreaker nodded and scooped up Prism. “Come on Prism. We will go get you checked.”

Prism curled against Sunstreaker’s chestplates, still crying silently. “He has to be lying. We haven’t---that much. It’s just been a---It can’t be.” 

“Only takes once, sweetspark,” Sunstreaker said patiently. He hurried down the hall and up a level to the medbay. It wasn’t crowded yet, luckily. Sunstreaker waved to one of Hoist’s assistants, a mech named Fixit to come over. “I need him scanned, we think he might be carrying.” 

Fixit hurried over, surprise at the idea clear on his faceplates. “Carrying? Oh my! Surely not! Prism you are still so young!” 

Prism blushed, “I know. Can you check me?” 

Fixit nodded and began to hook up the pad. After a few kliks, it beeped and Fixit’s optics went wide. “Oh my! Dear Primus! You are carrying! And it’s twins!” 

Prism trembled, “Twins? A-are you sure? T-they are rare, aren’t they?”

“I’m positive. Two little mechs.” 

Sunstreaker’s optics widened in shock, “I’m going to be a sire? So soon?” 

“It appears as though you will be,” Fixit said, grinning at the shock on both mech’s faceplates, “Congratulations.” 

“B-but we just bonded. I-it’s only been a matter of sols,” Prism whispered. 

::Sunny? What’s wrong? I can feel that you both are surprised about something?::

::Sides...Sides, we- we, are going to be sires.::

::WHAT?!?!::

::Prism is carrying. Twins::

::Are you sure? I mean...we haven’t been bonded long.::

::Positive. Fixit confirmed it. Come to the medbay. Please. We need you with us.::

::Frag! I will be right there,:: Sideswipe said over the bond. 

Prism’s doorwings wiggled, “Oh...how am I going to tell Mirage? I don’t even know how he would take this news.”

“Well, I would hope,” Sunstreaker said. 

“Tell me what, Prism?” 

Prism squeaked and turned to find Mirage standing behind him, a curious look on his face. Mirage looked from Prism to Sunstreaker. “Did you hurt him, Sunstreaker?” 

Sunstreaker frowned, “No, I did not hurt Prism! I would never hurt him!” 

Mirage frowned, “Then why is he afraid to tell me something? What did you do?” 

Prism fidgeted, “Um Mirage. I..I don’t know how to tell you this. I-I um, I am, am ...carrying.” 

Mirage froze at Prism softly whispered words and the slowly turned his helm to stare at Sunstreaker. “You fragger!”

Prism huffed, “It’s not as if he did it all on his own, Mirage. I had a hand in it as well. Are-aren’t you happy for me? Just a little bit?” 

Mirage scowled, “I do not care what those CNA tests said, they are not right for you. You are much too young to carry. You are too young”

“Obviously, not. I am carrying. Twins. Two mechlings. You should be happy. Two more members of our house, my lord.” 

Mirage huffed, “Prism.” 

“Yes, my lord?” 

Mirage frowned, “Prism! I am your creator. You used to call me that, or Tor.”

Prism looked away, “That was when you acted like my Tor and not my house lord.” 

Mirage frowned and looked back at Sunstreaker, glaring at him. “You told him to do this, didn’t you?”

Sunstreaker held his hands up, “No, I would never do that. Frag. I think he’s lucky he still has a creator, someone who cares for him. I’ve lost mine. Frag, I don’t even know how you can think that.” 

Prism shifted, looking uneasy, “Sunny wouldn’t do that, Mira---Tor.” 

“Wouldn’t he?” 

“No. he really would not. You don’t act like you used to. I---I thought before that you loved me. That you cared for me and about my happiness.” he vented, “But you don’t even seem to be happy for me in this.” 

Mirage frowned. “I am just worried that you are rushing things, sweetspark. You are so young to be a creator, let alone to be the one carrying. I am happy for you, but I am worried as well. You are going to have to take extra good care of yourself and see a medic at least once a decacycle. Twins make it even riskier.” 

Prism frowned, “I am going to be fine.” 

“I am sure you will, sweetspark, but you still need to take care of yourself. Carrying is hard on a bots frame,” Mirage said and scowled at Sunstreaker. 

“I would like First Aid to look in on you once he gets back. He specialized in this sort of thing back on Cybertron. He will know what sort of additives you will need.”

Prism shifted, “Thank you, creator.” 

Mirage smiled brightly and pulled Prism into an embrace, “I am sorry if I have come across harshly.” 

Prism returned the hug. “I wish you would be happier for me.”

Mirage pulled back a little and cupped the side of Prism’s face. “I am happy for you, but I worry for you. The mechs you are chosen are so much bigger and stronger and I have seen many times how badly that can turn out. I hope you are right and they are good mechs but I want them to know that you are my bitty, I love you and I will make sure their frames are never found if you they ever hurt you.”

“They won’t hurt me. I know their sparks. They are good mechs and they love me dearly. I wish you had a mate that loved you as much as they love me,” Prism whispered. 

“I hope you are correct in this,” Mirage said, studying Prism’s face. “You always thought the best of anybot you encountered.” 

“Even Roddy,” Prism said cheekily. 

“Even Kup’s brat,” Mirage agreed.

OoOoOoOo

Ironhide kept an optic on Will as they fought through the mass of eradicons. The mech handled himself well, like a warrior should. Ironhide could not help be proud of the human-turned-mech’s progress. He was a natural. The eradicons it would seem were not. They fell under their blades and guns.

And yet they still kept coming. 

The rest of their team were inside the crude barracks that the humans turned mechs had been herded when they were not being forced to work in the mines. They had already called for a space bridge and were evacuating all the mechs back to the axiom. 

It was Ironhide and Will’s job to hold off the eradicons until all the mechs had been evacuated safely. Fortunately the eradicons were terrible at fighting. Will had laughed and compared them to something called a Stormtrooper what ever that was. 

They were almost ready to fall back and go through the warp gate themselves when one of the eradicons finally got lucky and Will was hit low in the torso. He screamed and dropped his weapon, landing on the floor in a growing pool of his own energon. 

It seemed as though the whole thing had happened in slow motion. Ironhide felt like time stood still, and then there was nothing but rage. How dare they hurt his mate. He charged at the eradicon that moved in on Will to make the killing blow, and tore through the mech with his energon sword. He didn’t stop there, but kept fighting until they were alone in the hallway and he was venting heavily above Will, his optics purple with rage. 

Will groaned, snapping him out of the trance he was in. The energon was still flowing out of the mech, and dripping into a puddle beneath him. 

He quickly scooped up Will in his arms and sprinted to the barracks. He saw the rest of his team ushering the human mechs through the space bridge and they looked up at them startled at their sudden appearance. 

“Clear a hole! Will needs medics now! He has lost a lot of fluids!” 

The rest of their team held up the next group of human mechs and waved them through. As soon as Ironhide passed through the space bridge he ran to the nearest medic in the room, “Help him!”

“Put him down on the berth,” Hoist said, already grabbing the supplies he would need to patch Will up.

Ironhide started to step away but Hoist motioned him back, “I could use another pair of hands, can you work a welder?”

“Yeah, I’ve done field repairs,” Ironhide said, taking the torch that was pushed into his hand. 

“Good. This shouldn't be too hard. You start the patchwork and I will start a drip.” 

Ironhide looked down on Will’s injured frame and put a servo on his as Hoist turned off his pain receptors. Will looked so small when he wasn’t moving. It made Ironhide worry for him even more. “Hang on Will.” 

Ironhide took a metal patch and began to weld the damaged sections starting with the least serious wounds, waiting as Hoist started a drip and then began to repair the severed wires and fluid lines.

Hoist came back, hung a back of energon and worked a long needle into one of Will’s main energon lines before replacing it with tubing and taping the thing down. 

He started working on the worst of the wounds, patching the line up, and replacing the destroyed wiring. “It’s not as bad as it could have been,” Hoist said. 

Ironhide grunted, Will shouldn't have been injured at all. He should have been able to protect him. Even though a small part of him knew that Will would not want that. He was a very capable mech. He could take care of himself. 

But Ironhide did not see it that way. He wanted to protect Will and make sure he was kept safe always. With both Chromia and him as warriors, Will could step down. He could care for Annabelle and later their own sparklings. 

Will would look so tasty with his plating distended with carrying a sparkling. He could hardly wait to spark him up. Hoist finished the inner repairs, allowing Ironhide to patch his plating. 

Hoist hooked up a pad to scan Will’s frame and froze in shock, looking up at Ironhide and frowning. “Did you know about this?” 

“Know about what?” 

“He is carrying!”

Ironhide blinked at him, “You’re yanking my gears.” 

Hoist vented, “I wouldn't joke about something like this, nor would I have cleared him for combat had I realized. I fear… we will need to scan the other new bots as well. In our haste to integrate them I do not think anyone considered that they would...integrate this well.” 

“Meaning?” 

“None of them have had contraceptive implants. It just...frag. There was no damage done, luckily. The spark is very strong despite it’s carriers stress.” 

Ironhide blinked at him at a complete loss for words. “Seriously?” 

“This is not something that I would joke about Ironhide. You and Chromia should decide what you are going to do about him pretty soon-” 

“We want him. We want to keep him, bring him into our bond.” 

“Good. He seems like a good mech and deserves better than being played with and used like that. I will have to check on the others, especially those that have attracted other mechs as partners.”

“Good luck with that Hoist.”

The green medic laughed, “Yeah, I’m going to need all the luck I can get. Once this mess is over.” He patted Wills arm. “He’s stabilized. The medicine should wear off in half a joor. You are welcome to stay until then. I don't’ think they need you back at the battle site.” 

“Thank you,” Ironhide said, and pulled up one of the chairs that were pushed against the wall. “I’ll...frag...I guess give him the good news. I hope it’s good news to him.” 

“Why wouldn’t it be? I don’t know of any mech who wouldn’t want a sparkling!” 

Ironhide sighed, “Because apparently humans had sexual dimorphism as a species. He wasn’t the gender that carried their sparklings. He was strictly a sire.” 

Hoist blinked, “I never understood why a species would do that. It is safer for everyone to do both!”

“I don’t think it was a matter of choice,” Ironhide said. “I don’t think that their species was to a point they could alter themselves to that extent.” 

“Ah, I see. Well, hopefully he will see it as a good thing.” 

Ironhide nodded, already stealing himself for the freak out that would follow. “Thanks.” He stared down at Will and tried to figure out how he was even going to tell the mech. “Frag, I hope he doesn’t crash.” 

“Keep him here until after you tell him. That way if he crashes or looks like he is about to crash, we can help him at once. It will be safer for him and the sparkling that way.” 

Ironhide nodded, pleased that at least one thing had gone his way in this. He would comm Chromia as soon as she got back from her own mission. She had not been pleased when they had ended up separated, but she was one of the only Autobots who knew how to operate Decepticon bridge controls for the ship.

She would not be pleased that he had let Will get hurt when he was carrying their sparkling. 

He sat beside Will for a very long time waiting for the mech to come out of stasis. Will’s hand was warm in his own. He looked so young and fragile in recharge. Ironhide couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and touching Will’s sparkplates reverently. He had wanted a bitty of his own for so long, and had never imagined that they would get to a situation where it would be safe to have one. He prayed that the war would end with this battle, and they could start their family in safety. 

Will finally stirred, his optics came online, and he blinked at Ironhide several times in confusion. “W-what happened?” 

“You were shot by one of the eradicons. I got you here and Hoist and I patched you up. Watch out yah might still be tender. Hoist let you on the drip because you lost a lot of energon. He’ll probably be by in a bit to give you a second bag.” 

“I was shot? I---remember bits of it.” 

“Will...there is something else I need to tell you. I don’t know how to say this...but you are carrying.” 

Will laughed, “Ha, ha, very funny, ‘Hide.” 

“I’m serious, Will.” 

Will stared, his mouth opened and closed several times before any sound came out, “That isn’t possible.” 

Ironhide sighed. “It wasn’t possible when you were still human and a male. Now you are a mech, and it is possible.” 

Will stared at him in shock. His servo went to his bandaged torso. “So, I am...I’m pregnant? I...that is...did the baby get hurt? By the shot?” 

Ironhide froze. That thought had not occurred to him. “I am sure it is fine. You are doing well and Hoist repaired you pretty quickly. You can just rest here while we wait to find out more.”

Will was silent, a frown inching across his faceplates, “Are you sure? Maybe it was all a mistake and Hoist was wrong.” 

“Will.The scanner didn’t lie. You are carrying. It---it really isn’t bad news...is it?” 

Will shifted and then winced, “I don’t know. I...frag...Annabelle is a handful. How am I going to manage with...by myself.” 

“Do you really think we’d let you do this alone?” Ironhide said, feeling hurt that Will would really think that. 

Will looked up at him in surprise, “What are you talking about?”

Ironhide took Will’s servo in his own. “You didn’t bud a sparkling, Will. Chromia and I helped create it and we will not let you do this by yourself. We want to bring you into our bond, you and Annabelle.” 

Will blinked his optics, looking at Ironhide with shock, “Did, did you just ask me to marry you and your wife?”

Ironhide’s lip twitched up into a sideways grin, “Yeah, I think I did.” 

Will blinked at him for a moment. “I---I don’t even know what to say to that. We haven’t known each other that long. D-don’t you think we are rushing things. What if you really don’t like me. Aren’t bonds sorta...permanent?”

“Will, I liked you enough to make a sparkling with you. I think it’s safe to say Chromia and I like you a lot.” 

Will squirmed on the medberth and winced again, “Yeah, I guess you do.” 

The door slammed open and Chromia rushed in at full speed. “Hide! Where is he?! I heard that Will got hurt?!” 

Ironhide stood up and Chromia rushed to Will’s berthside. “Will! Oh, look at you! Hide! How could you let this happen!? What were you thinking?!”

Will looked at her, “I can take care of myself you know.” 

She came closer, “Oh? You can? Could have fooled me. I let you two out of my sight and this happens. What the frag, Hide?” 

Will gave her a sulky look, “Stop talking over me. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. This wasn’t ‘Hide’s fault anyway. Pretty sure I fucked up on my own, and he got me in here. I’m fine, so just---just stop it.”

Chromia made an angry clicking noise, “Will.” 

“Don’t ‘Will’ me. I don’t need you talking to me like I’m some bratty kid. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.” 

“I know. I just worry. This was your first battle in your new form. Ironhide was supposed to be watching you. It is one thing to practise with your new form, another to be out in the thick of battle. I know you can take care of yourself but I am allowed to worry.” 

Will sighed, “I suppose. Just as long as you remember that I can take care of myself. This was just bad luck.” 

Ironhide shifted nervously, “Chromia- I, Hoist…. Will is carrying.”

“I think I heard you wrong. What did you say Hide?” 

“He said I’m carrying,” Will said, scowling at the femme. 

“What?” The femme looked stunned. “Will?” 

“Hoist scanned me. He said I’m carrying. We’re gonna have a little one I guess. Ironhide asked me to bond with the both of you, but I dunno how that would even work. I don’t know why you would want me, or this. And I think maybe I want to be left alone. I’m tired and I hurt.” 

“You...don’t sound very happy,” Chromia said, barely resisting the urge to scold him. 

Will gave her a flat look, “I don’t know what I should be feeling.” 

“What is wrong? I thought you be excited to give Annabelle a sibling?” 

Will gave her a frown, “I am not supposed to be pregnant! I am a guy, or at least I was. I am supposed to be with one person, not part of a threesome. What if you two get bored of me, or jealous of me being with the other.” 

Chromia laughed, “We will not get bored of you, or jealous. We talked it over between us before we approached you. You are perfect for both of us and we both love you. If you feel overwhelmed about carrying, we will help you as much as we can. We know this is scary for you.”

Will hugged himself tightly, still looking uncertain and insecure. “You love me? You haven’t known me long at all. Don’t you think you are jumping the gun a bit? Maybe I’m not who you think I am.” 

Chromia snorted, “William Lennox, I have seen into your very spark. I know exactly who you are. No we have not been together long, but we do love you, and we both want this to work.” 

He huffed, “You make a very logical argument. Why do you have to sound so fucking reasonable. This isn’t a reasonable situation.” 

“Only because you are making it so, sweetspark.” 

He huffed again, “Fine.” 

“Don’t worry sweetspark, we will be here for you. Whatever you need, we will be there.” 

Will sighed, “I am still not supposed to be pregnant!” 

Chromia frowned, “I know it is sudden but I admit I didn’t even think to ask if you had an implant yet. It is no one’s fault.” 

Will frowned, “That is not what I meant. I am the guy, I am not supposed to be pregnant. Girls get pregnant, not guys!” 

Chromia frowned, “So humans only had one gender that could carry? That seems so ineffective.”

Will gave her a flat looked, “It worked for us.” 

“You are no longer human Will. I am sorry. But it is a fact that cannot be changed. I am sorry that you have to go through with this. I know it is shocking, and you do not know our ways...but they are your ways now. What you knew as a human is no longer a reality,” Chromia said as gently as she could. 

“You know. I was married before...I had a bondmate of my own, and on some level it feels like I have betrayed Sarah,” Will shifted, hunching in on himself. “I should have never let any of this happen. It just felt nice to not be so alone any longer. It was hard on Earth. With the kids. I didn’t think any of us were going to make it out alive.”

Chromia frowned, “It was not our intention to take advantage of you, Will.” 

“I know.” 

Her frowned deepened, “Do you not cared for us? Not even a bit?” 

“It’s not that. I---I said I would bond with you. I care about you both. I’m just...maybe I should talk to Rung like you suggested before. I’m not right. Not at all.” 

“We can do that. Whatever you need, Will. We will support you, whatever you need.” 

Will sighed and smiled, “I guess I can’t ask for more than that.” 

Chromia rubbed the top of his helm, “We will make sure you get whatever you need, Will.

Hide did the same, “Yes, you and Anabelle as well as the new arrival have nothing to worry about.”

Will searched their faces, and apparently found what he saw in there looks a comfort. “Thank you.” 

“I think we can probably return to our quarters, if you feel up to moving. The berth is more comfortable, and I think they will need this space soon. Not many wounded coming in, but that could change at any moment,” Ironhide said. 

Will flinched, “Aren’t you needed back on the battlefield?” 

“No, Springer’s crew is clearing the field. It’s better to just stay out of their way,” Chromia said. 

“Let me go get Hoist then, make sure you are free to go.” 

Hide headed towards Hoist while Chromia leaned over and pressed a kiss to Will’s lips. “Don’t worry, it will turn out alright. You’ll see!” 

Hide came back and scooped Will up, “You are good to go, Will! Let’s get you home. I know Annabelle will be glad to see you.”  
Will leaned back against him, still feeling weak. “I will be glad to see her too. I love her so much.” 

“I know she feels the same. She is lucky to have such a good creator.” 

Will smiled faintly and let himself drift off as Ironhide carried him home.

OoOoOoOo

Optimus Prime followed the wreckers through the dark halls of the Nemesis. Most of the Cons had already been subdued or captured, but Megatron and a small contingent were still holding down the bridge. Optimus powered up his weapon systems, his spark pounding in his chest plates. This had to be the end. They had never been at such an advantage. They could not afford to lose this opportunity.

He was being given the opportunity to end this war once and for all. He was not going to lose this chance. Far too many good mechs and femmes had been lost in this conflict that had even taken their home from them. 

Even their human allies had been destroyed, their homeworld altered so badly that it was barely recognizable anymore. Such wanton devastation had followed the Decepticons across the galaxy. It would end now though. It was time for Megatron to pay for what he had done. 

Arcee and Bumblebee stayed close beside him and he was touched that they had come instead of joining the rescues of the children. They had both loved Jack and Raf as dearly as their own sparklings but had felt the need to serve their prime was the stronger call.

He hoped that he was truly deserving of such devotion. He hoped that he could do the right thing. Megatron. He had to destroy the mech. 

The alarms blared around them, growing deafeningly loud as they neared the command deck. He heard Megatron shouting orders long before he came upon the mech himself. 

“Prime! How can this be?” Megatron roared. 

“Megatron! Your tyranny ends here!” 

“You betray me again, Orion! You always betray me! Why? Why must you always be against me?!” 

“You are the one who betrayed all they stood for, Megatron!” 

Megatron roared and charged at Optimus, his dark star sabre swinging out with a deadly susurrus. Optimus drew his own sabre and countered it expertly, with flash of charged energy with every blow. 

Megatron roared, his anger getting the better of him. He flung himself at Optimus, altogether dropping his sword. Optimus fell to the floor, rolling he flipped Megatron over him. The mech landed hard on the floor, his helm rebounding with a resounding clang. 

Optimus whirled, rising to his feet, but Megatron did not move. Optimus stared, optics widening. He was not sure if it was a trick. Yet another ploy. He moved closer, his sword reaching out to rest under Megatron’s chin, and yet....the mech still did not move. 

As soon as Megatron fell, the other decepticons on the bridge attacked as they tried to reach their fallen leader. Optimus pulled a set of stasis cuffs out of his subspace and slapped them around Megatron’s wrists.

Arcee and Bumblebee snapped to, firing at the attacking Decepticons and trying to protect Optimus. Soon, each of the remaining Decepticons was either offline or in stasis cuffs.

Optimus looked around at the aftermath and cringed inside. There were so many lost mechs. Megatron lay listlessly at his peds. He had not stirred since he had fallen. It made Optimus’ tank roll. He had once loved this mech more than anything in the universe. His betrayal still pricked at Optimus’ spark.

“What now, boss bot?” Bumblebee asked, touching his arm. 

Optimus looked down, “Gather the prisoners and we will return them to the brig on the Axiom. The Wreckers will take control of this ship.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Optimus looked down at the prone figure of Megatron at his peds, “And take Megatron to the med-bay.” 

Arcee looked surprised, “Sir? The med-bay? You can’t be serious!” 

Optimus looked at Arcee, “Arcee, we will not be able to ease tensions between Autobots and Decepticons if we damage Megatron more than he was during the battle. We will need to do so if we are to move forward and end this war properly.”

Arcee opened her mouth to protest, but shut it with a loud click, “If that is what you want, Optimus. I will see that it is done. We all want this war to be over.” 

“As a species we cannot afford for it to go any longer,” Optimus said gravely.  
Arcee nodded, already calling for the medics to collect Megatron’s prone body. Optimus could tell that she did not agree with his decision, but she was not going to argue against it either. 

His spark contracted. He couldn't believe it was over. 

Optimus followed Megatron’s frame as the medics took it through the gate into the med bay and then directly into a private room. Hoist and Ratchet followed him and the froze at the sight of the Decepticon leader. 

Hoist hooked up a pad while Ratchet scanned the warlord. They conferred when they were done. “Optimus, it is not good. He has lost his higher processor function, and his spark is weak. He is in a coma and too unstable for a frame transplant.”

Optimus nodded, “All from a blow to the helm?” 

“It was cumulative damage, Optimus. He...was already malfunctioning,” Ratchet said slowly. “The damage from the dark energon, vorns of battle with minimal repairs at best. I am not even sure I will be able to stabilize his spark.” 

Optimus ducked his helm, whatever he wanted it was not for it to end this way. “Do what you can, old friend.” 

“Of course, Optimus. You, you should announce that it is all over. I am sure that the fleet will be glad to hear of it.” 

“You are right, Ratchet. I will go to the bridge and announce it.” 

Optimus headed up to the bridge passing mechs in the halls who saluted or helped fellow mechs who were wounded as they made their way to the med bay. When he reached the bridge, Prowl stood up from his command chair. “Lord Prime?”

“Prowl. I---it is over. We have taken Lord Megatron. He is in a coma in the medbay. I need you to make a fleetwide announcement. The war is over.” 

Prowl looked at him with a stunned expression on his face. “What now, sir?” 

“That is...still up in the air I fear. Cybertron is still dead,” Optimus said slowly. We still have to help the mechs and femmes on earth. Ratchet does not believe that they can be restored, but we can try to set things to right here.” 

Prowl nodded, “As you wish, my Lord Prime.” 

THE END

OoOoOoOo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> * http://tfwiki.net/wiki/Predacon_%28Prime%29
> 
> *Bots in the Autobot Armada:  
> On the Axiom:  
> Prowl, Jazz, Perceptor, Moonracer, Hound, Mirage, Inferno, Blurr, Kup, First Aid, Groove, Hot Spot, Blades,  
> Streetwise- http://dan-the-artguy.deviantart.com/art/Streetwise-Botcon-2010-art-184220700 , Ironhide (black paint, Cliffjumper’s brother), Chromia, Rewind, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Bob the insecticon, Inferno, Red Alert, Silverbolt, Fireflight, Skydive, Air Raid, Slingshot, Grimlock, Sludge, Snarl, Slag, Swoop, Ricochet, Skyfire, Springer, Blaster, Eject, Steeljaw, Ramhorn, Tracks, Rung, Skids, Barricade (?), Hoist,
> 
> Sparklings: Bluestreak (Prowl & Jazz), Flare up(inferno & Red), Meister (Ricochet & Barricade), Saur (Blaster & Dinobots), Dile (Blaster & Dinobots), Noise (Blaster & Dinobots), Graphy (Blaster & Dinobots), 
> 
> Mechlings: Hot Rod (Kup), Paddles (Sludge & ?), Prism (adopted by Mirage),
> 
> http://tfwiki.net/wiki/W_Cassettebot
> 
> *6 Ships-  
> Axiom, Hyperion, Pale Fire, Thunder Arrow, Valiant, Iron Hope.  
> http://tfwiki.net/wiki/Starships#Decepticon_starships
> 
>  
> 
> *Humans- turned Cybertronian
> 
> William Lennox- http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3317/3494246926_c89ffb513f_z.jpg?zz=1  
> Annebelle Lennox-  
> Robert Epps- http://images.defensetech.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/Pegasus-490x367.jpg  
> Patrick Donnelly-  
> Spike Witwicky- http://cartoscreen.com/9924-12213-bugatti-veyron-2009-red-6559-hd-wallpapers-background-in-cars  
> Chip Chase-  
> Carlos Lopez  
> Verity Carlo- predacon  
> Carly Spencer- http://i28.tinypic.com/t8owhz.jpg  
> Edna Ross-truckbot. =X http://blog.hemmings.com/wp-content/uploads//2012/07/1955GMC_01_700.jpg  
> Mikaela- http://www.autocarfashion.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/2013-Chevrolet-Chevy-Corvette-C7-Concept-Sport-Car-Photo.jpg  
> http://www.boston.com/cars/newsandreviews/overdrive/ChicagoCorvetteConcept-609.jpg
> 
>  
> 
> *Thundercracker, and Skywarp. They are both on the Valiant. TC offered for Bluestreak when he came of age. http://www.chonosmoon.com/transformers/prime-skywarp-assassin#/0  
> http://www.chonosmoon.com/transformers/prime-thundercracker-noble-warrior#/0  
> The co-ruler that Starscream murdered was Windsurge. His mate was Downdraft, and their sparkling was Windflitter. All were killed in an ‘accident’.  
> Sideswipe- http://transformers.wikia.com/wiki/File:Prime-sideswipe-0.jpg  
> Sunstreaker- http://shy-light.deviantart.com/art/Sunstreaker-Ra-el-Armor-Concept-364697916
> 
> *Sunstreaker and Sideswipe- carried by Stormsurge and was their sire Solarflare of House Stellaluna.
> 
> *Miko (Flamewars) sparklings- 12- 
> 
> 1.Steelclaw  
> 2.Quickstep  
> 3.Brightblade  
> 4.Riptide  
> 5.Galaxyreaver  
> 6.Sharptooth  
> 7.Stormbreak  
> 8.Firestorm  
> 9.Wyrmwing  
> 10.Drakescale  
> 11.Thunderbolt  
> 12.Lightning Strike
> 
> *Predacons cloned by Shockwave-Skylynx, Darksteel,

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Mechanics of Survival](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1531802) by [PhoenixofMetal (Blueeyes713)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueeyes713/pseuds/PhoenixofMetal)




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